


Salem, Avenger

by CanterburyTales



Series: Lokitty Chronicles [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Glacial in fact, Slow Burn, Thor 2 Spoilers, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, captain america 2 spoilers, tasertricks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 67,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanterburyTales/pseuds/CanterburyTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back after hiatus. </p><p>Loki has served his time on Midgard in the shape of a cat and returned to Asgard. All might seem to be as before, but Loki has no intention of remaining. Once he returns to Midgard, and to Darcy,  his problems will be over.</p><p>Loki should know by now that things are never that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Debts

"This brings back memories."

Thor looked dubiously across at his younger brother. It was true, of course. Standing in the anteroom, waiting to be called dressed in their ceremonial armor, it was impossible not to remember the coronation that never was. It was not a time that Thor particularly wished to remember. 

"Should I go first, so you can make a grand entrance?" It seemed Loki at least did not shrink from remembering that day. Compared to then their positions were reversed. Now it was Loki full of boisterous enthusiasm, or at least, boisterous for him. It was uncharacteristic. It made Thor nervous. 

"You are _very_ quiet." 

"I am concerned for you," Thor said bluntly. In truth, concern for Loki had been Thor's constant companion since he had first learned he was on Midgard. Usually it lay dormant, rising like a monster from the depths at time of crisis. When Loki wavered between going home and staying on Midgard, for instance, or when he hovered between life and death as a cat, or was so weak when restored to his own shape that he could not stand. Thor had sat by his bed for days in the Halls of Healing. He still remembered the joy when Loki spoke his first word. "Brother." The word had soothed his concern to sleep, but the monster was awake once more. 

"Don't be." Loki stood, hair clipped and neat, the harsh gauntness softened from his face, looking every inch the prince who had waited for Thor's coronation. Identical, in fact, as long as you did not look too closely at his eyes. They stood in silence, waiting. Loki was plucking at his palm, a gesture that reminded Thor of Frigga. 

Frigga had come the first day to the Halls, regal as she entered and dismissed the attendants. But when they were alone and the doors were closed she ran to the bedside like any mother. Loki would not look her in the eye, but she hugged him and wept for joy all the same. 

The day after Loki first spoke, he lifted his head as she walked in and watched her as she sat in her place. "I am reborn," he said eventually, picking at his palms just as he did now, "brought from another world by Thor and placed in your hands, to accept or reject as you will." And Thor realized with a jolt that Loki truly did not believe they accepted him. 

Frigga cupped Loki's face in her hands. "Know this," she said, "You entered my heart when Odin first placed you in my arms and there you have stayed and never left, despite all your wanderings." Thor left then, to allow them to talk alone until Loki's voice gave out. 

"You are still silent," Loki pointed out. 

"I am reflecting," Thor said. "I am aware that is unusual." 

Loki looked sideways at him, one corner of his mouth turned up. "I think Midgard has been good for you, brother." 

"I am changed since the last day we stood here together," Thor said. "And so are you." It pained him to admit it. They had all thought that the Loki of old had returned. But standing here, Thor saw that was a fantasy. 

The half smile slipped from Loki's face. "You are right, brother. I am not the same." 

"And you keep your own counsel?" Thor knew something was going to happen. It would be pleasant to know in advance what it was. 

"In that, I am unchanged, for I always did. But know this, brother," and Loki was turned towards Thor, his face serious, "I told you before not to doubt that I loved you. Now I tell you plainly, I bear you no ill will." 

"Now I am truly concerned," said Thor half in jest. "But now we must go. It is time." 

They walked forward together, side by side into the golden hall. The people were gathered, the soldiers formed an honor guard, but the atmosphere was solemn rather than jubilant. Slowly they walked until they reached the foot of the steps, where both removed their helmets and knelt. Frigga stood alone at the top of the steps, dwarfed by the golden bulk of the throne where the All-Father sat, silent and unmoving. 

He waited until the rustling and murmuring of the crowd died away. Then the All-Father spoke. 

"In the past two years Asgard faced perils such as we have not seen for millennia. This palace was attacked by an old foe, breaking centuries of peace. The Bifrost was destroyed. And my youngest son, in facing these threats, was lost." The king's voice dropped on the last words. He paused and continued more loudly. 

"Thor was sent to Midgard, the crossroads of the Realms, where he won back the Tesseract for us, a treasure long thought lost. We rebuilt the Bifrost, which shines brighter than ever. And every day since that day we restore order to the Realms who without Asgardian aid sank into chaos and despair." As a counterpoint to the king's raised voice, Gungnir slammed against the floor and a murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. Thor glanced at Loki's face. It was blank and unreadable. 

"Yet Thor's duty was not done. He returned to Midgard as its defender, and in so doing obtained yet another blessing." His voice, clear and even, paused. The crowd were silent, waiting for his words, which came in a crescendo. "He returned to me my son!" 

A low cheer started, then spread around the room. The corner of Loki's mouth was raised sardonically for a instant. 

Odin shouted over the rising din. "Tomorrow we will fight again. But today is a day of rejoicing. Today the sons of Odin return to Asgard!" 

That was their cue to stand and turn to face the crowd. A wall of sound hit them, and through it all like a golden thread, a single name. _Thor! Thor! Thor!_ Thor glanced at Loki involuntarily. Loki's face was filled with joy and humility, and concern clamped down on Thor's stomach with teeth of iron. 

* * *

In Odin's private chambers there was tension in the air. Odin had visited the Halls of Healing, but not on the first day and the visits never relaxed into informality. Odin sat, papers scattered across the polished wood table. Frigga sat by his side, serene yet watchful. Thor and Loki bowed and drew seats to the table. There was a silence no-one seemed anxious to break. 

"That went well, didn't it? History neatly rewritten." Well, except for Loki. Thor winced, but the king and queen remained impassive. 

"It is good to see you, Loki," Odin said calmly, "though your time on Midgard seems to have hurt more than mended your manners." 

Loki's demeanour changed instantly. "Forgive me, my king," and he half bowed in his seat, his fist clenched to his chest, apparently entirely sincere. 

"I have called you here," Odin said, "to arrange what is to be done. The Realms have been in turmoil too long. Muspelheim is torn apart by conflict. Vanaheim is under attack by marauders. This cannot stand.The soldiers need a leader, someone to lead them to victory. You have one more week here, and then you will go and rid us of these vermin once and for all." 

"Very well, Father," Thor said, bowing his head. 

"I am very much afraid," and there Loki paused while the king directed his attention to him, "that I must decline, my king." 

He bowed in his seat, as before. Silence fell across the table. 

"Might I enquire what is more urgent than bringing peace to these Realms?" Odin spoke mildly, more mildly than Thor would have expected. Frigga looked untroubled, and Thor realized that to her at least, this refusal was no surprise.

"I owe Midgard a debt. In all conscience, I must repay it." 

"And what of the debt owed to the Realms ravaged by war?" Odin enquired. 

Loki's fingers met, forming a steeple beneath his chin. "I owe them no debt. Their misfortune was none of my doing." Thor understood, bit his lip and was silent. This was not the time. 

Odin paused, and leaned back in his chair. "The fate of Jotenheim, however, was entirely your doing. If you have debts, you should look there first." 

"And so I shall," Loki said, "If they wish it. But the lives of the mortals are short. I should repay them first, lest no debtors live when their turn comes." 

Thor was suddenly struck by the resemblance between Loki and Odin as they sat at either end of the table, playing with words as they might play Kings Table, making move and counter move. Yet the gifts they shared were not those Odin valued. 

"And what do you owe these mortals?" 

"Five score or more died by my command, people of the Realms I swore in the past to protect. A year for every life I cost seems a small price." 

Odin nodded. "A small price indeed and one that can wait. The need of Vanaheim and Muspelheim far exceeds it. We must turn to the greatest danger first." 

Loki paused. The next move was clearly a risky one. "There is a greater danger than marauders." 

Frigga moved for the first time, her head dipping in a brief nod. Odin glanced at her, then back at Loki. 

"What is this danger?" 

"I am," said Loki, as it were a straightforward matter of fact. 

Silence fell again. "Explain, my son," Frigga said softly. 

"The greatest risk to the Realms is my reversion to what I was. I have learned much. If I wished to acquire a throne again, I would be a formidable foe." 

Thor shook his head, laughing, not in mirth but in disbelief at what he was hearing. "Are we truly meant to believe this? You would not do such a thing!" 

Loki turned his head. "But I did," he said. "You wish me to be what I was at your coronation. That day for the first time the frontiers of Asgard were breached, due to me. That was what happened before. Do you truly wish it to happen again?” He looked back to Odin. "And I am not what I was then. In some ways I am more dangerous." 

Odin's pose echoed Loki's, fingers steepled and eye keen. This was a duel, thought Thor, as deadly as any on the battlefield. This was a skill he would have to master to truly become a king. The prospect was not pleasant. 

Finally Odin made his move. "You are saying that we cannot trust you.” 

Loki considered, then spoke. "Not living as I did before, no. Not on Asgard." Thor recognised the truth in this, bitter to the taste. Past hopes died without a struggle. 

"But in the dungeons? There I think we would trust you." Odin said, far too coolly and lightly for Thor's taste. 

"Then you would be fools. Alone, feeding on my own hatred and resentment? A cancer at the heart of your kingdom, requiring always to be kept in check lest I overwhelm it all?" Loki waved a hand in respect and acknowledgement. "You are too wise to chose that option if others exist." 

"Flattery," Odin rumbled. 

"Truth," Loki said. "I have no reason to flatter you." His eyes met Odin's and they fought a silent battle over the table. 

Odin looked away first. "Do you realize what you are saying?" he said, leaning forward again. "If this is true it would exclude you from ever being King of Asgard, perhaps from ruling anywhere in the Nine Realms. Do you accept this? Think carefully." 

Loki was silent. To Thor's eye the war fought now was inside Loki's head. It ended as he raised his eyes back to the king. 

"I do accept it." 

Odin sat back in the chair. "Then what do you propose?" 

"I propose you send me, with Thor, back to Midgard. Let me repay my debt. If not...I will refuse to fight in Asgard's army and you may _try_ to visit any punishment on me you wish. Choose wisely." And Loki sat back, a mirror image of the king, the air crackling with tension. The game balanced on a knife edge. 

"No." The tension broke, both heads turning sharply to look at Thor. Frigga smiled gently at him, a smile of approval. Thor smiled back, and ended the game. 

"My place is on the battlefield. I will go to Muspelheim, but Loki must go to Midgard." Thor could see frustration seeping through Loki's impassive mask. Odin spoke with mild curiosity. 

"Why, my son?" 

Thor gathered his thoughts. "Because Loki speaks truth. Because I owe a debt to the Realms: I, not Loki, was the one who destroyed the Bifrost. Because I owe Loki a debt. Because you owe a debt - you never told me what changing Loki's shape would do to him." 

"He knew," Odin said dismissively. 

"Aye," said Thor. "But I did not. I would not have agreed to it. So for these reasons Loki should be let go, and because it is the right thing to do." 

Odin nodded slowly, then turned to Loki. "What if these Midgardians will not accept your aid? What then, my son?" 

"Then I suppose I must return and I will be at your command," said Loki, lightly. "But if I might be so bold, my king, Muspelheim would be a wiser choice than Asgard." 

Odin deliberated, nodded decisively then rose. "Very well. At the feast it shall be proclaimed that Thor shall lead the final push on Muspelheim, and Loki shall return to Midgard and offer himself as its protector. In a few days, you will go your separate ways." 

"If it's all the same to you, my king," said Loki, rising with a single elegant movement, "I would rather leave at once." A gentle sigh left the queen's lips. Odin looked at her then back at Loki. 

"After the feast, boy. You owe us that." Then Odin turned and left the room. 

Frigga stood and crossed to Loki. She cupped his face in her hands and half reached up to him, half pulled his head down to kiss his forehead. "I will miss you, but you are right. This is not the place for you." She looked across at Thor. "You did well, my son." She stepped back and nodded to them both. "You may not believe it, but Odin grieves. I must go to him. Do not go without saying goodbye." 

When she left, Loki turned on Thor. "Why did you interfere? I had him in the palm of my hand! Do you not _wish_ to return to Midgard?" 

"I wish it with all my heart," Thor said. "But the risk was too great. Sometimes playing Kings Table, one must sacrifice a man to save the king. Is that not so?" 

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Never as you played it, brother." 

"Even I can learn. Besides, I had my debt." 

"You owe me no debt," Loki said, dismissively. 

Thor shook his head. "Remember your words on Midgard before you told me where the Tesseract was? That you had lived in the shadow of my greatness? That darkness is my debt." 

Loki's lip curled. "I was half-insane. I said you hurled me into the Abyss. Is that your debt too?" 

"No, because that was a lie," and Thor took the single step that separated him from Loki and took his arm. "But the shadow, that was true. It is time for you to step out of my shadow." 

Loki looked sideways at him, face almost too blank to be readable, but Thor thought the eyes had softened. "At the price of your Jane?" 

Thor thumped Loki on the back. "What danger is there of that when I have Silver Tongue to sing my praises?" The blank face turned into one all too familiar, the one that said _dolt_. Thor became serious. "Please, tell her that I love her, and think only of her, and will return to her as soon as I can." 

"You may be sure that I will," said Loki, equally serious. "And now I must speak with mother." 

* * *

Central Park was silent. Even the air was still now the light had faded. The lights of New York shone in the distance, but the foreground offered only the red twinkle of laser sights. The darkness was moving. He was surrounded by a ring of agents, all in black, all with guns pointed directly at him. He had expected no less. Loki, dressed simply in black, stood still, held his hands palms turned outwards and waited. 

Eventually a man came forward, in a suit and tie rather than fatigues. A familiar face. 

"Agent Coulson. I see you have been expecting me. I have a message for Jane Foster." 

"That's nice," said Coulson without a flicker of emotion. "But you have to talk to me first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kings Table = [Hnefatafl](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tafl_games), a Viking strategic board game. I imagine Loki is _really_ good at it.
> 
> Tumblr: [In a coat of gold or a coat of red/the lion still has claws/and mine are long and sharp my lord/as long and sharp as yours.](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/120096681492/loki-thou-art-drunk-and-who-are-you-the-proud)
> 
> Warning: I've done a LOT of updates this week. I'm afraid it's going to be slower and more erratic through the summer (yeah, business as usual.) Sorry in advance.
> 
> ETA: if you want to know Loki's thoughts during Odin's speech, [they're in the comments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4014499/comments/30944380).


	2. Purpose

Loki had anticipated many ways in which he might die if he returned to Midgard. Boredom had not been one he had considered. That had been a serious oversight. 

"It has been nine days now," Loki pointed out. "You have asked these questions before." 

Coulson looked up from his papers. "And I'll probably ask them again," he said. 

Loki sprawled back in his chair. The florescent light and orange jumpsuit he was wearing made his pale skin look dead. "To what end? When Thor offered his assistance he never endured questioning like this." 

"And look how that turned out," Coulson said. "When Thor came he had proved himself. He had defended Earth against a terrorist and then neutralized a threat by the same terrorist. But when we agreed to accept his help, he brought the terrorist with him and had him sleeping under his couch. Imagine what we think when the _terrorist_ comes offering his assistance." 

Coulson's raised eyebrows had a point. Loki had never expected instant acceptance. He had remembered the questioning Thor received when cast out. But these constant questions going on for days, the endless waiting, it was tedious. The longing to be with Darcy only made it more so. 

Patience was the only course available. That did not make it an attractive one. 

"Very well." Loki came out of his slouch and arranged himself neatly at the table. 

"What do you want?" Coulson said. Again. 

"To come here, to assist in whatever way I can in recompense for the damage I did," Loki said. Again. 

"I meant in a deeper sense," said Coulson, and that was new. "A more existential sense." Loki frowned a little at the unfamiliar word and was silent. Coulson neatened the edges of his papers. It was a habit of his. It was infuriating. 

"Try it this way," Coulson said. "When you...infiltrated the Pegasus Project, you said that you were," he glanced down unnecessarily, "'burdened with glorious purpose'." 

"Yes, the purpose being to invade Earth and rule as a benevolent God-king," said Loki, as patiently as if explaining something to a particularly stupid child. 

"Why?" asked Coulson. 

"Because I was born to rule," Loki said, still with an air of patient forbearance. 

"So ruling is your life's purpose?" asked Coulson, and suddenly Loki found himself at a loss. Clearly not, since he had taken himself out of the succession. And Coulson knew that too. He had told Coulson, to avert any fears that Loki wished to rule Midgard again. 

Coulson did not let the silence linger. "Perhaps ruling was only a means to an end. Perhaps freedom was your ultimate purpose." 

"Freedom is a lie," Loki said calmly. "We live in a deterministic universe. There are only those who rule, and those who are ruled." 

"That doesn't mean our decisions don't alter anything," Coulson said. "Yours certainly did," and again Loki found himself at a loss. This conversation was not only unlike any he had previously with Coulson, but unlike any he had ever had with anyone. In Asgard everyone knew where they stood, what they should do and how they should live. They did not waste time thinking about it. 

"All this is pointless," Loki said. "Even more pointless than the other questions." 

"Perhaps," said Coulson. "What about love?" 

Ah, so this is what the unsettling conversation was aiming at. Loki knew that they had to know about Darcy. He had already been asked about her, about his life as a cat. He knew they knew that she meant something to him. 

He had been guarded. Perhaps it was time to let something slip. He had seen enough TV perched on Darcy's lap to know Midgardian biases, their sentimental belief in love conquering all. 

He allowed his eyes to drop. "I...," and then he paused, and he thought of Darcy's body and the waves of her hair and allowed the faintest flush to settle on his cheekbones. "I suppose..." and he looked up, for a microsecond looking young and vulnerable before the bland, unresponsive mask fell down, "that's what everyone wants." 

* * *

"And you believe him?" 

"His reaction? I'm half inclined to." Coulson closed down the video. "Natasha doesn't. It is a little off. Discussing his battle with his brother, his ancestry, even his time with that alien warlord...for those the emotional reactions he shows are muted." 

"Blunt affect?" Fury queried. 

"There could be cultural aspects we're not aware of," Coulson said, "but it's very possible. Past trauma, depression... But he's also clearly high self-monitoring. That confuses things. All the same..." 

Fury raised an eyebrow. 

"It could also be that his emotional reaction here _is_ stronger. Plus, if he's not here for Darcy, it's hard to imagine what he _is_ here for. As a cat, we know he showed her affection. There's his actions during the incursion, and the message Clint picked up. My gut says that it's the only thing that makes sense." 

"Long game?" Fury suggested. "For all we know he just wants us to think its about Darcy Lewis. He's tricky as hell." 

"Must be some prize if he's willing to die for it," Coulson said. 

"He didn't die," said Fury. 

"True. But why come to us at all? We know that he can travel between worlds without using the Bifrost. We know what he's capable of. Why did he come to us? Why tell us all he's told us? It's all checked out, every detail." 

Fury pondered. "I don't have an answer to that." He leaned forward in his chair. "So let's assume for now Lewis _is_ his objective. What does he do if she doesn't reciprocate? Given his past actions, I don't want to see how he handles rejection. His brother issues flattened a town. Sure as hell don't want to see Manhattan go the same way." 

"She's freaked out," Coulson said. "If he thinks he can just go back to being her kitten again, he's wrong." Coulson leaned back in his chair, sighed, and ran a hand over his eyes. "I agree, it is a risk. I'd cut him lose if it wasn't for the fact we could have an incredibly valuable asset here. His knowledge could secure trans-dimensional transport. Asgard has energy shields, incredible healing capabilities...even a fraction of that would be priceless. Then there's his personal skills. We have nothing like them. The potential is enormous." 

"That's another thing that worries me," said Fury. Coulson straightened up, surprised. "Damn magic. It's caused nothing but trouble. The Tesseract, the Sceptre...and bringing magical abilities into SHIELD _now_..." Fury's good eye met Coulson's. Coulson didn't need it spelling out. They still didn't know what had happened to the Sceptre. 

Fury gazed into space, then snapped back into focus. "Continue to assess him. The Security Council have decided that the events in Stuttgart don't justify public trial and there's relations with Asgard to consider. It's down to us." 

"I'm going to call in Natasha," Coulson said. "She's better on the existential stuff. Personally, I don't think there's anything there. I don't think he has a great overall purpose. He lacks conviction." He tilted his head. "I'll ask her to dig into Asgardian mores too. Might give us some indication of his likely reactions." 

"Sounds good," Fury said. "And if Natasha doesn't get to him, try calling in Tony Stark." 

"I would, sir," said Coulson, gathering his papers, "but I'm pretty sure questioning by Stark is outlawed under the Geneva Convention." 

* * *

On the tenth day of questioning, Natasha walked in. At least, Loki thought, he knew her better than Coulson. That said, what he knew was that she was insightful, almost omniscient. Certainly her colleagues seemed to think so. 

"How much longer must I stay here?" Loki asked. He kept his tone calm and level. 

"Until we decide what to do with you." Natasha opened the folder in front of her. 

"When will my clothing be returned?" 

"When we decide what to do with you. In the meantime, I have a few questions." 

At least Natasha's questions were different to Coulson's. Some were almost incomprehensible, assuming beliefs and ways of thinking entirely alien to Loki. Others were childishly easy, about life on Asgard. He was tolerably sure that his answers were consistent with the answers he had given in the previous weeks. 

* * *

It was still tedious. As time went on it had also got progressively more difficult, to remember what he had said and how he had said it, to stay in control. That was, he supposed, the point. 

Yet it was better than the alternative. To be asked questions presupposed that the answers mattered. If he was in Muspelheim now, he would be sidelined and ignored, and trusted no more than he was here. 

He was exhausted each day when they brought him to the glass cell in which they were keeping him. He ate and exercised, losing himself in the activities, keeping his mind blank. Then he sat on the low cot, legs crossed and closed his eyes. 

He blocked out the room and the prickliness of the rough gray blanket against his bare feet. The faint hum and flicker of the lighting fell away, side-effects the morals seemed unaware of but that were a constant irritation to him, like something stuck between his teeth. He could only send his Sight to a place he knew well, but he knew the Tower intimately. 

The first time, on that first day, he had sent his Sight to her room, only to come back immediately, cheeks burning with shame before he calmed himself. Would he really repeat his earlier failings now? Investigation of the lab was fruitless, the small enclosure lined with plastic gone, the room decontaminated. Everything was in boxes, the machinery packed up and the faint fuzz of dust over everything told him there was nothing for him here. 

He Saw her at last in the common room. Now, that was the only place he looked for her. She did not always appear but when she did, he would watch her sip her tea, and wonder. She looked sadder than he remembered. Did she miss him? Had Clint given her his message? He would never willingly leave her. Did she know that? 

He could not speak to her, but the sight of her was enough. For now. 

Sometimes they nudged him when his Sight was elsewhere, disorientating him as he focused back on the room. Sometimes they woke him from his sleep, moving him back to the interrogation room. Always, there were questions. But it did not matter. 

The questioning had done this much: he now realized the full truth of what he had said to Frigga. He was reborn. He could not say what he wanted now, except for Darcy. The hope of seeing her soon and the stolen glimpses of her sustained him. 

* * *

On the nineteenth day of questioning, Natasha came with no papers. She sat in the seat across from Loki and looked him up and down, assessing him. Loki sat and waited. 

"Why are you here?" she asked. 

Loki sighed. "I came for the Tesseract. People died. I wish to make recompense. Is that so difficult to understand?" 

"No," Natasha said. "Why are you _still_ here. We aren't holding you. I'm not so stupid as to think we are and neither are you. You choose to stay here. Why?" 

Loki's face was a blank mask. "Because I wish to stay peacefully on Midgard. I do not think my stay would be pleasant or long if it were against SHIELD's wishes." 

Natasha studied him, then leaned back. They sat in silence for a while. Loki did not object. It was relaxing, almost companionable. 

"Do you really think we believe your purpose in life is love?" Loki had been staring into space. He focused slowly onto Natasha again, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Natasha looked amused as only Natasha could, a ghost of a smirk on her lips, a sarcastic twist to her brow. 

Her derision stung a little. It was meant to. Loki was not so raw as to fall for it. "Believe it or not, as you will." His posture did not change but he was fully alert now. 

"We know too much to believe it. You used your father as bait, you tricked your mother, you tried to kill your brother, you _actually_ killed your biological father and tried to wipe out his species into the bargain. You betrayed your allies, twice. Your so-called friends turned on you and you turned on them in turn. And as for..." and the faintest sarcasm filled the next two words, "romantic relationships, have any lasted longer than it took to get your clothes back on?" Her eyes flicked over his orange jumpsuit. 

Her lip curled, just a little. "That is not a life focused on love." 

All feeling was shut down. This was a battle, and he had given her the ammunition. But it had been necessary, a risk worth taking to gain their trust. 

"Do you despair of love, Agent Romanov?" His voice was silky, low and smooth. He had ammunition of his own. 

"We aren't discussing me," and Natasha's face was smooth and impassive, but a pulse beat in her neck. 

"Perhaps we should," Loki said, "I killed, but I was never what you were. San Paulo? Drakov’s daughter? One who killed men, women and children without compunction, without remorse, without even _purpose_ , a tool in other's hands? So when Clint Barton said he loved you, did he lie?" 

"You were worse," and Natasha's voice was low. "We were ants under your boot." 

"It is much the same for those who are dead." His voice was stronger now, filled with contempt. "So you may change, wipe out your past and find love, yet somehow I may not. I never thought you a hypocrite!" 

She looked long at him and when she spoke he realized he had misstepped. "Do you hope to wipe out the past?" she asked. 

If anything there was sympathy in her eyes, and he believed it was real and a trick at one and the same time. They stared at each other as he had stared at Odin. At last Loki spoke. "No. There is no wiping out the past. Others may hope for that, but I do not." 

She glanced away. Loki knew her well enough not to assume victory. She did not hope to wipe out the past either. Natasha's face was calm as she asked her next question. "Do you hope to change?" 

"I have changed." Loki had said this in myriad ways over the past eighteen days, but this was the first time he was so blunt. She acknowledged this with a nod and fell back into silence. 

Perhaps he should have said nothing then but foolishly, he wanted to win. "The past cannot be wiped away, for either of us. So why should my past condemn me, but not you? 

"I did not condemn," she said softly. "Nor do I say you cannot feel or care." 

"But you may know love, and I may not." Loki sat back with finality. Despite all, he still felt talk of love was sentiment, a pious cover for need and want, but he wanted her to acknowledge the truth. Whatever she knew as love, he could know it too. 

Her head went to one side, the soft side of her neck revealed as her hair swung away from it. Suddenly she smiled, a gentle smile, as shocking in that place as a slap. "Clint showed me something a while back. Words. They said, 'Whisper a dangerous secret to someone you care about. Now they have the power to destroy you, but they won't. This is what love is.'" She paused, then leaned forward onto the table, fixing him with inscrutable blue eyes. "Do you love anyone, Loki?" 

She didn't wait for an answer, swinging up off the chair, red hair flying like blood as she went out the door. It was as well she did not wait, for Loki had no answer. 

* * *

"This is serving no purpose," Natasha said. "He clearly believes that he could escape. And if we are being objective, he's probably right." A crooked smile flashed for a moment. 

"And it is about Lewis?" Fury said. "You touched a nerve there." 

Natasha half shrugged. "It's the only point on which he's vulnerable." 

"So, people, what do we do?" Fury leaned back and looked from Natasha and Coulson and back again. "The World Council want him gone." 

"We take him in. Then at least we have some oversight," Coulson said. "He could come back next time under the radar. We can't stop him." 

"He's too dangerous," Fury said. "Someone has the Sceptre. Someone with links with SHIELD. No matter what Loki's intentions, he could be controlled." 

"We avoid that if we keep him out of SHIELD," Coulson said. "He'd add a lot to Foster's work, and to Stark's." 

Fury's eye was staring at Coulson. "Put him in the Tower with Stark? Are you out of your god-damn mind?" 

"Stark's a loose canon," Coulson said, unabashed, "but he's our loose canon." 

"And what will the Avengers say?" Fury asked. "They're just going to cosy up to the guy who was trying to kill them last year?" 

"They'll have to agree of course," Coulson said. "You don't seem to mind it, sir," he added. 

"I'm used to it. Some people take that kind of thing personally." 

"No harm in asking," Coulson said. Both Fury and Coulson looked at Natasha. 

Natasha shrugged. "Ба́ба с во́зу — кобы́ле ле́гче," she said. "I'll talk to them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ба́ба с во́зу — кобы́ле ле́гче" = "It is easier for the mare when a woman is off the cart." = go ahead and avoid the tough job, it'll just make it easier for me.
> 
> Tumblr: [Freedom is life's great lie](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/120285257742), [whisper a dangerous secret (Nightvale)](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/120188639792/from-nightvaleradio-on-twitter) (Clint tweets. Pun intended.)
> 
> Given this is a fic about false expectations, here, have another chapter :) Overwhelmed with the response, thank you all!


	3. Veto

Darcy leaned on the counter, tea mug between her hands, gazing into space. She'd only returned to the common room a month after It happened. Now she could remember the happy times without freaking out. Her therapist thought it was progress. It was, she guessed. 

Everything had been tangled up in her head. She didn't feel safe. She didn't want to be in her apartment, in the common room and she totally did not want to be in the lab. When Erik left one week after It happened to get some job in Oxford, she totally got it in a way she hadn't before. She didn't know who she could trust. She was sad, and angry at herself for being sad. She was a fucked up mess. 

Clint had practically marched her to therapy. Darcy had been surprised, she kinda thought he'd be all for stoic bottling up. "I'm into what works, Darcy," he'd said. "This works better." 

"Why aren't you freaked out?" Darcy had asked and he'd shrugged. 

"Worked though a lot already, I guess. Plus it's not the same for me. It wasn't so important. Go. Talk." She baulked. He wheedled. He was strong and reassuring and _nice_ , and somehow made her believe she could be safe. "Just give it a try. Can't hurt can it?" 

She went. She talked. She learned it was okay to blame Thor and Jane for not telling her. After working through that she'd had a long tearful (on both sides) conversation about it with Jane, and that felt better. She still resented Thor and she owned that so...working on it. She'd accepted she wasn't stupid, and it was okay to grieve. "The relationship was real, even if it wasn't what you thought," her therapist had said, summarizing Darcy's incoherent thoughts. That was it, exactly. She missed Salem and that was okay. But he was dead. It was two months and he was dead. She didn't want to deal with anything else right now. She just wanted to deal with that. 

Here, in the common room, she could remember and miss him, and that was okay. 

* * *

"So they're doing this." Clint leaned back on his couch. He didn't look particularly surprised, Natasha noted. 

"We have a veto," she said. "Individually. We were asked to live together to forge us into a team. We all have to agree." 

Clint shrugged. "You know how I feel about it." 

* * *

"Nat, why was Clint working out sight lines here in the common room?" 

Natasha turned her head, her cup still held in both hands, her back leaning against the counter. Her face was mildly enquiring. Tony, hair slightly singed, rolled his eyes and reached for the coffee jug. 

"Don't give me that look. I've worked with him, I know what he's doing. So what's up?" 

Natasha half shrugged, one shoulder moving up and down. The liquid in the cup remained exactly level. 

"I know it's not on me," Tony said. "None of my projects need that kind of security." 

"That's what you said about Project Stargate," Natasha said. 

Tony pursed his lips, looked at her sideways and poured his coffee without another word. 

* * *

Steve's eyes narrowed, his forehead creased and he looked from Natasha to Clint and back again. "You're serious," he said. 

"As a heart attack," said Clint, balancing his chair on one leg. They were meeting in Clint's apartment, gathered around the table in his kitchen. "Anyone for a beer?" Steve's eyes followed him as Clint wandered off to the refrigerator, but he said nothing. He was too busy turning it over in his mind. 

"Can we trust him?" Steve said at last. 

"To a certain degree," said Natasha. 

"That's consoling," said Steve dryly. He opened his mouth as if about to say something, then stopped, tilted his head and closed his mouth again. 

"Say it," said Natasha. 

"Okay," and the corner of Steve's mouth went up, matching hers. "I know this sounds like I'm bringing in my personal life, but what about Darcy?" 

"Don't sweat it," said Clint, closing the refrigerator with a bump of his ass. "I said that too." 

"She has a veto just like you," said Natasha. "It's your opinion I'm looking for." 

Steve silently took one of the bottles Clint had put on the table. He took a long draft from it, then stared into space, tracing the edge of the label as he thought. 

"My instinct is to give the guy a chance," he said at last. "Everyone should have a chance to make good. But we're got to minimize the risks. What did Tony say?" 

"We haven't told him yet," and Natasha's face was entirely blank, except for the smallest quirk of her left brow as she watched Steve's reaction. 

"I wondered why this meeting was being held here," Steve said at last, lips pursed to disguise his amusement. 

"I wonder why we don't have all our meetings here," Clint asked, clinking bottles with Natasha. 

"Including the ones with Tony?" and Steve grinned at Clint's mock scowl. "Why haven't you told him?" he asked, switching to Natasha. 

"Because Tony needs to be handled carefully. We've started the process." 

"I've started it," Clint corrected. "He's all riled up." Clint's smirk was wicked as he tilted back in his chair, beer held in one hand. 

"Why can't you guys do anything the easy way," Steve asked, amused. 

"This _is_ the easy way," Natasha said, as cool as the beer she sipped. "If we ask, he will say no, almost on principle. This way, he makes us tell him, and he will at least think about it." 

"'Sides," Clint added, the chair balancing on one leg again, "this way is more fun." 

* * *

"So, spy twins been talking to you?" The operation was over and Steve was watching the clean-up of the secret lab. From outside it had looked like an office block, but behind the scenes there had been some form of experimentation going on. Extremis, something else? Steve hoped the bundles of paperwork going out would yield something. Tony, faceplate down but otherwise in full armor, clearly had other concerns. 

"They talk to me a lot," Steve replied, eyes still on the operation in front of him. "I'm their mission leader," he added, half turning, eyebrow quirked. "They've got no choice." 

Tony pushed that aside with the swipe of one armoured hand. "About something new. Something about to happen in my building." 

Steve's expression didn't change. "You're going to have to be more specific, Tony, You've got a lot of buildings." 

"The Tower." Steve was sure his expression still hadn't changed but Tony pounced anyway. "They have! What's it all about?" 

"If they had talked to me," Steve said turning to fully face Tony, "I couldn't tell you without clearance. You know that as well as I do." 

Tony pouted. Steve crossed his arms. Tony rolled his eyes. "Fine. Don't say you never had a chance to tell me." 

Steve shook his head as Tony stomped away, then returned to watching. The only difference from his old pose was that the corners of his mouth were turned up. Clint was right. This _was_ fun. 

* * *

"He did it," Coulson said, leaning against the gym wall. Natasha paused, balanced perfectly between the rings, legs held straight above her in the air. Then she looped, let go, twisted and landed perfectly. Picking up her towel, she patted her neck and crossed the gym floor. 

"We're sure?" 

Coulson grinned. "His fingerprints are all over it." 

"So we have to tell him." The words would be reported to Stark, they both knew, but the slight widening of her eyes and the way Coulson's eyebrows briefly slanted would not, nor would the message communicated between them. _Phase One successfully completed. On to Phase Two._

* * *

"I've been expecting you, Ms Romanov." Tony was sitting in his business office, the solid wood furniture and thick carpet spelling out his status. Tony complemented his setting perfectly. His tailored pinstripe suit, custom shirt and flamboyant tie enhanced his expensive tan and perfectly groomed hair. A greater contrast to the slightly charred engineer wearing ancient Motorhead t-shirts and worn-out jeans was difficult to imagine. 

Natasha sat, tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth quirked up to match her eyebrows. "Bond villain suits you Tony. You should have a cat." 

"Never again," Tony declared. He stood up, moved to the corner of the desk closest to Natasha and sat on it. "So. I know. And you know I know. So let's cut the crap." 

If anything the quirked corner of Natasha's mouth went up a fraction. "I know that you have seen SHIELD reports from about a month ago on an unspecified visitor from Asgard. And I know you know the Bifrost has not opened since. But that's all you know, Tony." 

"Come on, Nat," and Tony opened his hands wide. "I've got brains. If it was Thor, he'd be here already." 

"Would he?" Natasha said, looking into his eyes as if waiting for his next move. 

"It's Loki," and Tony stood up and walked around the room. "It's Loki, I feel it. And Steve knows it and Clint...well, he's assessing security. So tell me, Nat. You're going to have to tell me some time." 

Natasha shrugged. "Let us say for sake of argument that you're right. I still would not have to tell you unless it affected you in some way." 

Tony gave her a long, unimpressed look. "You as a lawyer was typecasting, huh? Tell it to me straight, Legal. Were you thinking of bringing the package here?" 

One of Nat's shoulders shrugged non-committally. "It was a possibility, yes. Hypothetically speaking." 

"But it's not now?" 

Nat's gaze was clear and untroubled. "It would be...sensitive. Speaking hypothetically, what would Pepper say, for instance?" 

Tony pursed his lips and sat back down on the corner of the desk. "Hypothetically, she'll kill me to save time. Unless..." 

Nat raised an eyebrow. 

"Someone like you could tell her it would be safe." Tony paused. "Would it be safe?" 

"Probably not, no." Unsurprisingly that piece of information didn't seem to put Tony off at all. 

"Hey, I'm shocked, Legal. Never saw you as a quitter." Tony looked over her head into the distance, lips pursed as if silently whistling, tapping a complicated beat with his fingers. "Thor said oaths were very important on Asgard, right? That's why, in your assessment, he couldn't tell us about Tiddles. Would that work on the furball? Air-tight contract, x on the dotted line?" 

Nat half-shrugged again. "It would have to be air-tight. Hypothetically, we are talking about a clever and devious entity." 

Tony swiped that away with his right hand. "I could get Legal onto it. The actual Legal." 

Natasha looked sceptical. "Hypothetically..." 

Tony swiped that away too. "Let's take 'hypothetical' as read, Perry Mason." 

" _If_ this was happening, it would be covert. Highly secret. We couldn't bring in lawyers." She smirked for a second. "Even lawyers as discrete as yours." 

Tony gave her a hard look, then grinned. "Am I drooling? _Obviously_ I wouldn't tell them. I'd get them to draw up a contract for Ty Stone." 

This time Natasha's small smile was honestly amused. The man the word _frenemy_ might have been coined for _was_ a perfect fit. 

"You see it, right? Rich, powerful, entitled, devious, _evil_... Just put 'and magic' after each mention of technology and we'd be home clear." 

"I'm glad I don't work in your legal department any more," Natasha observed. "I can't help but wonder _why_ you would bother." 

Tony's eyes glinted. "Something in it for me. I'd get to pick his brains." 

"I imagine," Natasha said, "he might be difficult to work with." 

"You may not have heard," and in a stage whisper Tony continued, "So am I." 

* * *

Bruce looked from one of them to the other, the essence of rumpled confusion. "You can't be serious." 

"Try me," Tony said. 

"You're...," Bruce started, and then stopped himself and turned his swivel chair to face Natasha. " _You're_ insane. Tony's just got no sense of risk. Loki, here?" 

"We think we can contain him," Natasha said. 

"You remember Stuttgart? That guy's brain is a bag full of cats! He's crazy!" 

"Remember when he _was_ a cat?" Tony asked. "He mellowed." 

"Did he," said Bruce sceptically. 

"Hulk liked him." 

"Not a recommendation." 

"Perhaps it should be," Natasha said. 

"If he comes here," Bruce said, "I'll be the one who'll have to contain him if it all goes wrong." Natasha could see the revulsion in the depths of his brown eyes. 

"Nah," Tony said. "You know that's not true. We have the Hulkbuster now. In that, I could do it. Rhodey, Pepper, anyone trained." 

" _Pepper_ would do that?" Bruce looked sceptical again. 

"Actual condition of Loki coming here," Tony said. 

Bruce leaned back and studied Tony. A stack of papers avalanched off his desk. "She's okay with him coming here." 

"Not _exactly_ ," said Tony, "but she's going with it." 

Bruce looked hard at Tony and back to Natasha. "I guess I'll think about it." 

"I sense that the ladies' opinions weigh stronger in this than mine do," Tony complained. "I'm hurt, Big Guy." 

Bruce gave him a look and turned to gather his papers. 

* * *

They were in the meeting room beside Jane's old lab, where the equipment was still boxed away behind locked doors. Jane had listened to Tony and Natasha without comment, nodding briefly only after Tony's sales pitch on how Loki could help her work. 

"So, what do you think?" said Tony, before the silence got too long. 

"No," said Jane. "I can't agree to it." 

"Why?" said Natasha quietly. 

"I can't do that to Darcy," Jane said. "No." 

"What if Darcy agreed?" Tony asked. 

"She won't," said Jane. 

* * *

"No way." Darcy sat back, arms folded. "No fucking way." 

Tony opened his mouth, but Natasha spoke first. "Don't worry, Darcy. You have a veto like everyone else. If you don't want him here, he won't come here. And no-one is going to try and argue you out of it." 

Tony looked like he'd like to try, but he didn't. All that afternoon he was his usual sassy, difficult self until she rolled in to send him packing. 

"Time to hit the road, Tony." He looked up at her from the floor where he was tinkering with his pyramid, serious for once. 

"You know I value you right? When I get the bit between my teeth I...you know, I like to get it done. But I'm not going to put you in a situation you don't feel comfortable with." 

"I don't feel comfortable yelling, but I'm going to if it's the only thing to get you moving." But Darcy did appreciate it, and she was pretty sure Tony knew that. 

So that was all great, but she couldn't stop arguing with herself. 

She wandered back to Jane, who was writing equations on a clear partition and muttering under her breath. Darcy perched on a desk and watched her for a while. 

"If you had, like, someone from Asgard to discuss this with, it would go much quicker," she said finally. 

Jane glanced quickly at her through the equations. "I'd like to have Thor back, but I don't think he could help with this." 

"Nope, guess not." Darcy watched for another few minutes. "But someone like Loki..." 

Jane stopped, put down the marker and stepped around the partition. "Darcy...." 

Darcy looked up, brow wrinked, face scrunched up. "I don't know, Jane. Maybe he should come. At least you could get your work out of storage, get it going again!" 

Jane shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I can work it out, given time. You're more important here, Darcy. You deserve to feel safe." 

"But I don't!" and Darcy's arms flew wide. "I feel like anything could happen at any time. He's here, in the US, no matter what I say!" 

"They can send him back," but Jane's voice was uncertain. 

"Can they? Can they really? And Natasha said he wanted to make up for it. You know, Stuttgart, New York, all that. Do I have the right to say he can't?" 

" _Yes_ ," said Jane firmly. "Yes, you do. We all do." 

"But you all didn't," and Darcy's arms went limp. "It's just me. And maybe I'm wrong." 

"Darcy," and Jane sat beside her friend and put her arm around her. "It's like Clint said. You need time to heal." 

"I know," and Darcy put her head on Jane's shoulder. "But I think I need to face things too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's Darcy.
> 
> Tumblr: [Lokitty is top of the agenda](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/121779386912/gailcarriger-is-that-a-kitty-in-my-inbox-or), the [quote "Courage is not the absence of fear" which seemed appropriate](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/121778814147/notaplaceforclosedminds-one-of-my-favorites) and [gratuitous cats all over Clint's couch](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/121779495607/mephistos-cafe-lattes-thequeerunderthestairs).


	4. Conditions

This had become an endurance test. Very well, Loki would endure. 

Three months since the Chitauri had invaded, and been held back, and yet changed everything. Three months, half of which had been spent here within these concrete walls, walking from interrogation room to cell and back. Two questioners, Coulson and the Widow, recycling questions again and again. Only one assassination attempt that he was aware of. He had sensed the unexpected movement and reacted before the mortals were even aware. The spell was sent spiralling out as he twirled to see the face of his attacker, her face set, her eyes closing still filled with hate. By the time reinforcements came, the guards and the assassin were on the floor around him, lost in sleep. Loki stood entirely unmoved, waiting for SHIELD to tidy up the mess they had allowed happen. He was in control. He could wait longer than they could. 

From that day the number of guards was notably reduced. He was amused the decision had waited so long. Perhaps only he and the Widow truly understood that the guards served no purpose. 

The Widow had brought new games for him to play over the next week - hypothetical situations for him to react to, tests of his reactions, his sight and hearing. Her face remained pleasantly neutral throughout, her voice entirely lacking the sarcasm she had used when she talked of _love_. He was glad of that and not glad. When she had left after asking her question, if he loved anyone, he had sat alone, unsure of what he felt let alone what his answer might be. 

The topic did not come up again. The tests passed the time. Loki felt certain that that was their function, that and testing his compliance. 

"Very good," and the Widow make a short note, marking the end of another round of hypotheticals. When she looked up their eyes met. Apparently she recognized the weary derision in his stare, for the corner of her mouth twitched. "Final test. Can you enhance your senses magically?" she said, her voice level and uninterested. "For example, allowing you to hear the frequencies a cat would?" 

"Yes." 

"Good." Her folder yielded a small device, a stopwatch and yet another form.

"This plays tones at 64,000Hz, the highest level a cat can hear," Natasha said, indicating the device. "Please nod each time you hear a tone. Are you ready to begin?" 

Loki did not bother to pretend lack of boredom. He lifted the back of his hands to his ears, spread his fingers beside them muttering an incantation and arched them back down to the table. "Begin." 

Natasha pressed the button. Two seconds later the tone sounded and he nodded. Natasha marked off a point on the timeline in front of her. 

"Do not react. Now, nod if you can hear me." The voice on the recording was perfectly clear to him, despite being higher than a dog could hear. The only reaction he had was a flick of his eyes to Natasha as he nodded. She held his gaze steadily as she marked off the time again. 

A longer pause and the recording spoke again. "Very good. Please listen closely." 

* * *

The next day, it was not Natasha who entered the interrogation room, but a face Loi had last seen more than a year before. 

"Loki of Asgard?" said Director Fury. He moved to the table but did not sit, instead standing legs apart, hands behind his back like a soldier at ease, the long black leather coat suggesting authority that was not afraid to get its hands dirty. Loki felt a twinge of curiosity, coupled with a deep desire to shake the calm indifference on the face in front of him. Loki slouched, propped his long legs on the table and folded his arms behind his head in a insolently casual pose. 

"Director. Welcome to my humble abode. Please, make yourself comfortable." 

Fury eyed him. "I see you've made yourself at home. I come with glad tidings." He spoke levelly, but his choice of words, so close to those Loki used to him some thirteen months before, could hardly be a coincidence. Loki kept his face blank and put his head to one side. 

"Have you come to make me free?" Close enough to the words spoken then to keep the game going. 

"That's the plan. We're freeing you from here," Fury paused, but Loki knew there was more coming and sat, head still tilted, waiting. "And sending you back to Asgard." Fury watched for signs of surprise, but the only possible anomoly was a slight delay before a supercilious eyebrow raise. Guy was stone cold. "Got any questions?" 

"What of my message from the Crown Prince of Asgard?" Loki's face was cold and disinterested. 

"We'll facilitate that. Anything else?" 

"What else might I ask?" Loki appeared bored. "This freedom you offer is a lie, but that _is_ the nature of freedom." Loki's gaze turned to the ceiling. 

"Yeah, I've accepted that in my heart," said Fury, and this time there was sarcasm. "Goodbye, your highness." Fury turned on his heel, and exited. The door closed firmly behind him. Loki was left to wait. 

When the door finally opened he didn't change his pose. He remained sprawled on his chair, legs propped on the table, arms crossed on his chest, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling. Someone crossed the room, pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. 

"Are you okay?" The voice was nervous, but there was an undercurrent of concern. Loki's eyes deserted the ceiling. He had lived with that voice and knew its every nuance. 

As elegantly as if he were in the Asgardian Court, Loki swung his legs from the table, stood up and bowed. "Jane Foster. I am entrusted with a message for you from my brother." Straightening from his courtly bow, his eyes met hers. She was surprised, a little flustered with cheeks flushed pink but the concern was still there in her eyes. 

"Okay," she said slowly. "Loki." The name seemed strange coming from her lips. It looked as she felt it strange too. She scanned him, scanned the room and grimaced. 

"Are you...are they..." Her voice petered away. 

"I am being well looked after," Loki said, sitting back down. "I would have delivered my message sooner, when I first arrived here, but when Agent Coulson starts talking it is so very difficult to get him to stop." 

That provoked a short laugh from her, quickly and guiltily cut off. She was nervous and how much was the setting and how much was _him_ he could not determine. Her eyes were now fixed on the table. She did not wish to meet his gaze. He continued to speak, calmly and evenly. 

"My message is this. Prince Thor has been sent to defend Realms under threat. He bade me to tell you that he loves you, thinks only of you and that he will return to you as soon as he can." Loki's quick eyes caught the sudden tension in Jane's shoulders. "I do not believe Thor is in any danger," he said more softly, tone reassuring. "He _will_ return to you. I am certain." Thor always had good fortune. 

Jane looked up. "Thank you," she said, as quietly as he. "If...could you let me know if you have any news of him?" 

Loki studied her. "If I can," he said. "I may not be permitted to." Jane definitely twitched at that, and Loki was not surprised when a SHIELD agent appeared at the door. 

"That's it, Dr Foster. Time's up." 

Jane stood up, almost guiltily, and scurried to the door. Before she reached it Loki cleared his throat. "Might you give Darcy a greeting from me?" 

Jane looked back then dropped her head. "I can't. I'm sorry," the last words almost lost as the agent pushed her out of the room. 

After ten minutes he was escorted to a shower room where the clothes he had arrived in were laid out for him. He washed and changed slowly, resisting the urge to vaporize the orange jumpsuit. Despite questioning they still knew little of his capabilities and he wished to keep it that way. 

When he was ready the guards came, bulky in body armor, masked and heavily armed, to escort him to the jet. 

* * *

Coulson had chosen the place. It was meaningful to him at least - the base where Captain America first trained as a raw recruit, the site where SHIELD operated from in the early days. Big things had started from here, good things. It was abandoned now. The buildings in the distance looked intact but desolate and weeds grew thick around the edges of the airfield. The perimeter was once again ringed with SHIELD agents, set at a one hundred yard radius from where the Bifrost should appear. 

The Quinjet landed and the rear doors opened. They came exactly as expected: four guards in black armor flanking the lone figure standing a head taller wearing black of an alien cut. The circle of waiting agents opened to let them through, closing behind them as they approached Coulson. The face of Loki was cold, his head held high, his eyes not deigning to look at the agents around him. The group stopped a few feet away. 

"Ready?" Coulson said, eyes flicking from Loki to the guards. The guards gave quick nods while the central figure remained impassive. Coulson turned and as if on cue the blinding light of the Bifrost appeared. The two guards on point moved forward and to the sides, guns pointed toward the perimeter, clearing a path. The alien moved between them towards the bright light. Just before he reached it he turned, gave one sardonic smile back to Coulson, then stepped forward and vanished. A moment later and the light snapped off. 

Coulson could sense a tension lifting from the agents watching from the perimeter. His mouth tightened for a moment. "Move it out," he said to the four guards. 

The four said nothing as they took their places in the jet, sitting without removing their face masks or putting down their weapons. The silence lasted until the rear door was closed and the jet took off. Then came Clint's unmistakeable voice. 

"Well, that was _interesting_." 

The guard beside him turned and gazed steadily at him, but did not speak. The speaker overhead crackled. 

" _Apparently_ ," the pilot's voice said, "I need to remind you not to speak, nor to remove any piece of armor until you receive further instructions. Is that absolutely clear?" The woman's voice was clear and unamused. 

The guard who had spoken tipped a hand to his helmet and said no more. 

The jet landed an hour later. The rear door opened. "Agents 2, 3 and 4, this is your stop," the pilot's voice said and added drily, "If you need reminding, you go straight to lockdown before removing your armor." 

The remaining agent watched them leave, then sat back as the door closed. Five minutes after take-off the speaker crackled again. "You can remove your mask if you wish, Agent." The lone agent shrugged and removed the mask and helmet, shaking out long, blonde hair. 

"Well, that was weird," she remarked. "Can't say I'm surprised Barton was glad to see the back of him." 

"The agents involved in this operation remain unidentified," said the speaker sharply. 

"Yes, _M'am_ ," said the remaining agent. _Can't blame a girl for trying_ , she thought. 

Back at Stark Tower, the three guards walked through the building. A retina scan allowed them to enter a particular elevator which deposited them on a particular floor located on a subterranean level, isolated from other parts of the building. Another retina scan allowed entry into a white-painted room furnished with a central table surrounded by chairs, and cabinets and mostly empty bookcases lining the walls. A door hinted at other rooms beyond. 

The masks and helmets came off, revealing first Clint, then Natasha, then Clint again. The second Clint smirked and threw himself into one of the chairs. 

"May I speak now? I must say, it is an honor," and he half bowed, "to be present as you lie to the liars and deceivers you are bound to. A fascinating..." 

"Shut the fuck up," said the other Clint bluntly. He crossed the room and bent, one hand on the table, to look directly into the other Clint's eyes which were wide with faux innocence. 

"You know me," Clint said. "I'm not going to fuck around. You know about my past. You know what I think about second chances. But you only get one second chance. You fuck up, you mess us around, you bite the hand that's feeding you, we take you down. You will die." He paused. "Don't mess this up. You understand me?" 

"You have made yourself perfectly clear," the other Clint said calmly. The blue eyes looked up appealingly. "Forgive me?" 

Clint remained unmoved. "Yeah, I was clear. Do you understand me?" 

The other Clint sighed. "Yes, I understand." He stretched and his arms and legs kept going as his form morphed back into Loki, clad in his black Asgardian clothing. 

"This is where you will live for now," Natasha said from her perch on the corner of the table. "Until we reach agreement." 

"As the recording said, " said Loki, voice flat and bored. Natasha continued as if he hadn't spoken. 

"Bedroom, kitchen, facilities are all though there." She jerked her head at the other door. "Ask JARVIS if you need help with anything. He'll be supervising you at all times." A tap sounded on the entry door and she crossed to it. 

"But first a word from our sponsor," muttered Clint, turning to face the door. 

Tony wafted in as if he was walking on stage. The pinstriped blue suit contrasted with the well-worn high-tops, and the top two buttons of his shirt were open. A bundle of paper was held in the crook of one arm. "Hey spykids!" The sharp brown eyes turned to Loki and sized him up. "Hey Tiddles. Mi casa...you know something, not in your case." 

"We were just leaving," said Clint. As the door opened, he gave one last look over his shoulder. "Try not to kill him." Just behind him Natasha rolled her eyes, and closed the door behind them. 

The god and the billionaire sized each other up for a moment. Tony shrugged first and tossed the bundle of paper onto the table. It landed with a gentle whump at Loki's elbow. 

"Read that," Tony Stark said, smile broad and cocky. He was enjoying this, Loki realized. He was as aware of the risk as the other two but while they merely accepted it he revelled in it. He let Stark's words flow past his ears and silently eyed the pile of paper. It was impressively large. The flow of talk stopped and Loki looked up. 

"You know, part of the conditions are that you talk to me." Stark's head was to one side, eyes bright and inquisitive. "Is it the lack of audience that's the problem? I could ship them in." 

Loki remained impassive. "I was told there would be conditions if I stayed here. I do not yet know if I will agree to them. There might be no mode of life possible on this planet that is worth conversing with you at length, Mr Stark." 

Tony grinned. "Still got claws, Tiddles? Read it, let Nat know. In the meantime, if you need anything ask JARVIS. We'll talk more tomorrow. " 

"I shall look forward to it," said Loki drily. Stark grinned again. He turned on his heel, his blue suit rich against the white walls and pale woods. At the door he turned and waved his fingers in a childish goodbye. Loki pointedly looked back down at the document. 

At last he was alone and could think, free of all but the invisible eye of JARVIS. He was a step closer to his goal, yet he felt unease. He reached out with his mind but he could not find her.

* * *

The huge office was dark, except for a single desklamp and the lights across the Potomac river. Coulson could barely see Fury in the gloom. 

"It's done," he said. 

Fury sighed and stirred. "Do you ever get tired putting your neck on the line, Phil?" 

Coulson sat. "No," he said. 

"Good thing," Fury said, "Because I'm going to ask you to do it again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - no writing time. 
> 
> Tumblr links now up: 
> 
> [this was literally too spoilery to reblog, in my opinion](http://whataboutloki.tumblr.com/post/25087148391/are-you-ever-not-going-to-fall-for-that-notmine), imagine Loki's hair shorter and clothes all-black and [this gif could be from this fic](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/124838233027/in-which-loki-takes-a-short-trip-under-escort), and obligatory cat pic: [the first plan to get to the Tower needed work.](http://canterburyfic.tumblr.com/post/124837265922/awwww-cute-i-thought-the-shopping-bags-were-a)


	5. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait for update. I'm putting this up now, another chapter tomorrow and a third on Friday cos I need to read them over. Don't want to leave you waiting any longer!

There was silence for a moment. "Been a pleasure serving with you, sir," said Clint, snapping off a half-mocking salute. "Anyone we know on your new team?" 

The three sat as they had sat months ago after the alien incursion and the transformation of Loki. Natasha sat elegantly to Clint's right on the couch. Coulson sat across from him, feet bumping against theirs. This time Coulson was talking and they were listening. 

"Agent May," and Coulson let the surprised silence stretch a little. "Fury sold it to her. Backroom support, or as close as it gets in the field. We'll get another experienced agent to take the active role. The rest, we'll recruit from academy graduates." 

Natasha and Clint exchanged glances. "Quite a lowkey assignment then," Natasha said, without even the flutter of a lash betraying sarcasm. "Why are _you_ on this team? " 

"I think I'm getting injured in a few days." Coulson stretched and sighed. "Chronic leg injury. Dull but necessary." 

"So Natasha is sole liaison now," said Clint, getting down to brass tacks. 

"For now," Coulson said. "Changes are coming. The Avengers can assemble. They don't need to be all in the one spot." 

Both Clint and Natasha could read between the lines. Fury was spreading his assets, reducing vulnerability. And he didn't want anyone guessing what Coulson was looking for. 

"So while you're off treasure hunting," Clint drawled, "what about our other problem?" 

"My advice," said Coulson, "would be to go with the training. We'll worry about putting him in the field when it comes up. _If_ it comes up." He looked across at Natasha. "How's it going?" 

"He's pretending not to care," Natasha said, and Coulson nodded. 

"Let's try and bring it to a conclusion before he drives himself crazy. Who's going to be his handler?" 

"I think Clint should do it," Natasha said. Her innocent eyes swept Coulson's enquiring eyebrows and Clint's surprise. 

"I've never been a handler," Clint blurted out. 

Natasha shrugged with one shoulder. "You're the most dangerous man we have," she said to him. "You change people. You changed me. You have more experience at that than I do, than any of us do. " She leaned her forehead against his and understanding passed between the pairs of eyes. 

Clint turned a little to Coulson. It took a moment for him to find words. "I'm going to need Steve," he said at last. 

"Sure," said Coulson, stretching again. "He's staying put for now. One change at a time." 

* * *

"You can still say no, you know." Darcy switched her focus from a bazillion miles away to the guy across the table from her. Steve's blue eyes were fixed on her and he looked a little amused, a little concerned and one hundred per cent adorable. 

"Uh-uh," Darcy said, taking a swig from her beer. "You're breaking the rules." The alcohol stung her lips where she had been chewing them. 

After the first few weeks after IT happened Steve had started taking her out (as friends, definitely friends) to the diners down side streets and the run-down bars in Hell's Kitchen. Clint came along one time, then Clint and Natasha, and eventually one or two or all of them were regularly eating dim sum in the tiny place with the broken plastic sign, or drinking beer in Josie's Bar. They never talked about IT. They just hung out, played darts and pool, and relaxed. And those nights, Darcy felt almost normal again. Tonight Nat and Clint had bailed, so it was just Darcy and Steve. 

"I was never very good at following rules," Steve said, head to one side, one eyebrow raised. Darcy felt rather than saw the two women going past checking him out. 

"You need to work on that, soldier," Darcy said. "Think SHIELD kinda go for it." 

" _Meanwhile_ ," said Steve, then grinned as she threw a beer mat at him. 

"Okay, _pops_ ," Darcy said. "I'm good, okay? Tony talked to me about it. HE's not going to be around when I'm around. He's going to be tagged and watched and hell-knows what else. It's better than knowing he's, like, _out there_ and no-one knows where." 

"You sure?" said Steve gently, and took her hand across the table. 

"Sure I'm sure," said Darcy. "Can we play pool now?" 

"I can," said Steve, grinning again. He was teaching Darcy but progress was slow. 

"Hey, I'm a child of the video game generation. So sue me." 

* * *

"No." Loki sat back in his chair and watched Tony run his fingers through his hair as if ready to pull it out. It had been a long day. 

"Fine," said Tony through gritted teeth. "Then it's the sub-dermal tracker. Take it or leave it." 

Loki stretched. "To what end? You must know I could disable it with a thought." 

"Yeah, I know. And if you do, you're out," Tony snapped back. "You don't get the benefit of the doubt, Fuzzball. Any funny business and you can pack your little chewy mouse and vamoose." 

"Oh, very well," drawled Loki, as if deeply bored with the whole discussion. "If it pleases you to think you control me..." 

Natasha leaned forward before Tony could open his mouth. "We think no such thing. You caused major damage and threatened an invasion of Earth. We've seen what you were allied with - do you blame us being cautious?" 

"Those things will not happen again. You have my word." Loki's tone was dismissive, undercutting his words and his face was haughty and cold. Under the table, Tony's fists tightened. 

"Demonstrate that to us and your freedom will not be curtailed for long," said Natasha, her head back so she was looking down her nose, her voice just as disinterested. "It seems beneath you to quibble." 

Loki's eyes narrowed a little. The silence stretched. "Very well." 

Tony's fists unclenched. It looked like they finally had a breakthrough.

* * *

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!" Tony Stark pirouetted between the bots, grabbed a wrench and turned back in time to sing the next line with David Bowie. The music was blaring, the lab was empty and he was on a roll. It had taken a week since Loki first cracked and goddamm _agreed_ to something, but they'd finally reached closure. Signed, sealed, delivered. It was the most frustrating negotiation he'd ever been in. Being the difficult one was a lot more fun. 

"Turn and face the strange...Ch-ch-changes, Don't want to be a richer man..." 

"Could have fooled me." 

Tony started and the wrench slipped. "Ah, CRAP!" He swung around to face Rhodey, sitting astride the swivel chair at the desk. "Don't creep up on me! This is delicate work!" 

"I didn't," Rhodey said. "How are you not deaf, with the music that loud?" 

"Apologies, Colonel Rhodes," said JARVIS. Bowie faded. Tony glared at the ceiling. 

"And you! Why are you letting strangers into the lab in the middle of the night?" 

"I wasn't aware you weren't receiving visitors sir," JARVIS said, the sarcasm seeping through the level tone. 

Rhodey grinned. "Seems like no-one can hang around with you long without getting sassy." 

"I bring out the best in people," said Tony, straightening up. "So, what's up that you have to sneak in and give me a heart attack?" 

Rhodey slowly swung to one side, then the other, dark eyes considering Tony's expression. "It's a bad idea, Tony. A baaaad idea." 

"Which? I gotta lot of ideas." 

"You know which. You know about Coulson? That SHIELD aren't replacing him here? They know, don't they? They're are getting as far away from this as possible." 

"Yeah, I heard about Agent." Tony shrugged, crossed to the table and picked up a mug. He grimaced as he finished the sour dregs of coffee. "SHIELD don't know. Fury probably does, because that bastard knows everything. But who cares? Nat's more than enough liaison. I'm my own guy. Always have been." 

"I'm don't like this, Tony. It goes wrong, it won't be Senate hearings. You'll be hung out to dry." 

Tony turned to face him. "You want to pull out, go right ahead. But you know what I'm worried about? The two attempted alien invasions in my own fucking building. I can't defend this place, how can I defend the world?" 

"There _are_ one or two of us ready to help out with that," Rhodey said softly. 

"Hey, I know it. But it's not enough. Fury said it, we're hopelessly, hilariously outgunned. That can't stand. It's not going to."

"Sometimes the fix is worse than the problem," Rhodey said. 

"Hey, I'm the expert on risky fixes," and Tony's fingernails clinked on the reactor in his chest. "And I say this is a risk worth taking." 

Rhodey closed his eyes and sighed. "If you have to do this I'm with you, Tony. Just don't do anything stupid." 

"Since when have I ever done anything stupid?" and Tony grinned at Rhodey's groan. 

* * *

The bedroom was comfortable but plain, the fine Egyptian cotton sheets the same warm pearly white as the walls. Lights twinkled in a diorama of the New York skyline set into one wall, which disguised the fact that the room was deep underground. Loki's body sat cross-legged on the cream carpet, his back braced against the pale wood bedframe. His eyes saw Darcy, only inches away across the counter as she sipped her late night tea. 

She looked tired, dark smudges mingling with the black stuff she put on her eyes. Her lips were pale, but her eyes were deep meditative pools. Loki wondered what thoughts swam in their depths. 

The Widow and Stark had been worthy opponents. They had shown foresight and had built an almost airtight contract. _Almost._ They lacked knowledge, both of what he could do and of what he knew. Loki had taken some pains to ensure that was so. 

It was understandable they wished to keep Darcy from him. It was to their advantage to keep him from his goal. But he suspected he knew Darcy's habits better than they did. 

He had waited for so long for something that could be his. Respect, a throne, a family...he had lost them all. Then finally he had stepped away rather than struggle against inevitable defeat. On the side of a dark mountain he had agreed to return to Asgard. He had stepped on a different path and its twists and turns had led him here. He looked into the depths of Darcy's eyes and swore that, this time, he would not lose. 

So when he joined Clint in the large gym he said nothing when he found Steve Rogers was there also. The Captain was an irritant, but he could hardly be present by coincidence. This gym was, like the neutral apartment, separate from the rest of the Tower. This was not a time for conflict, not when he was so close. 

Clint came forward to meet Loki, hand out. "Welcome to the team," he said. Loki took his arm as was second nature, his hand clasped around the archer's elbow, forearm parallel to his. Clint took only a microsecond to adjust, and clasped Loki's elbow in turn. The face he turned to Loki was calm and neutral, without any hint of hostility. "Let's do this." 

Clint led the way to the weapons rack. "Thor said you sometimes use a bow," and there was a row of them, waiting for Loki's hand. "But I would guess the draw on these will be too light for you." 

Loki took the most sturdy looking and drew it with caution. It creaked ominously. "I believe you are right, Agent Barton." 

Clint's head was on one side, assessing. Loki eased the string back into starting position and Clint inclined his head briefly. "It's Clint, not agent. Tony might cook up something sometime, but guess for now I'll be the lone archer in the team. Let's go for the knives." 

Loki set up targets and began. This assessment was vastly more enjoyable than the Widow's assessments. The knives in his hands felt fitting in a way he had never consciously realized before. He had had no chance to work with his weapons before his departure to Midgard and this was the longest he had not trained since he was a boy. Practising the movements that were second nature brought him a sweet, unexpected pang of joy. There was no need to hold back, since they knew what he was physically capable of, so Loki did not. He feinted and slashed, turned and feinted again and threw, and knives thudded into the targets. At the end, Steve gave a low whistle. Clint's neutral sharp nod suggested approval even though, "Okay, let's see your hand-to-hand," was all he said. 

"No tricks," Clint added, as Loki and the Captain squared off. 

Steve Rogers was quick, avoiding the jabs Loki threw to test his guard. He was less agile, however, and Loki took full advantage, lunging in then swinging back and hooking the Captain's leg from the other direction. The Captain fell, then turned rapidly to find Loki's foot on his neck. Loki's smile was sinister, but the reason for Steve's ragged breathing was clear when he spoke. 

"Dang, you're fast," he said, laughter in his voice. "You got me," and he grinned up as Loki withdrew the foot. "You're faster than your brother," he added as he sat up. 

"Sadly, I am not," Loki said, suspicious of the words. Flattery, deceit...but Steve's grin never wavered as he thumped the mat with the flat of his hand. 

"Well, darn it! He swore he wasn't going easy!" Steve shook his head and tilted his head sideways, looking up at Loki. "Guess I don't have to worry about that with you if we train together." 

Loki paused. His first instinct was a cutting reply, but that would hardly be politic. The pause was enough to make Steve's grin fade, but Clint was already speaking. 

"You should. You could both use it." Clint looked from Steve to Loki. "You're not as sharp as you were a year back. Go again." 

Loki knew better than to use the same move. But Steve was on guard, a crease of concentration between his eyes. As Loki moved in and feinted left, Steve found an opening and tackled him to the floor. Loki looked at the leg lying across him, then to Steve's face. 

"You are aware I could break it?" Loki drawled, but the look in his eyes was sharp and feral. 

"Sure, but where's the fun in that?" Steve returned. "Especially when I might be worth training with after all." He swung aside his leg and rose. As Loki moved to his feet, he was suddenly confronted by a hand. Steve Roger's hand, out-stretched, in a silent offer to help him up. 

It would be churlish and foolish not to take it. Still, Loki was sorely tempted in the split second before he took the hand and let it guide him up. 

* * *

That thing about the frogs put into water which gradually boils? A total crock. But, Darcy's Political Thought lecturer had said, it was a cliché because it was true of humans and change, even if it wasn't true about killing frogs.

She really had forgotten, probably because outwardly nothing much had changed. Jane was distracted and working long hours...so yeah, no change there. Tony still had to told to eat and sleep, Darcy still joked with Pepper about it on conference calls. In the evenings she still went out and relaxed. No Steve tonight, he was on a mission somewhere. It happened. 

So it wasn't surprising that, on that Saturday night after being beaten fifteen times in a row at darts by Clint, she went to the common room instead of back to the apartment. The world was pleasantly hazy, and yummy cinnamon apple pie was calling her name. Clint had stashed it and Darcy knew where. Sides, Jane had crashed before Darcy had gone out and there was zero chance Darcy could make tea without waking her. So, common room it was. 

She stumbled into the unlit room and put on the under-cupboard lights. Five minutes later she was in possession of tea, a slice of pie and, _bonus_ , creamy vanilla ice-cream some angel had stashed in the freezer. 

She took a bite and then another, feeling mellow and sleepy. It took a few moments for the smell of roses to break into her conscious thoughts. 

She wandered out around the counter and almost walked straight into a rose bush. Well, not really a bush, more an arty installation of stems, somehow suspended in mid air with an unlikely number of red roses on them. Not those stiff uptight roses that you pay ten dollars for on Valentines Day that smell of cardboard, but real roses of a red so deep it was almost black and with a lush scent. She touched one velvety petal with a finger. 

Weird. It had Tony written all over it, but it wasn't Pepper's birthday. She ambled further into the room, admiring the display and idly wondering what Tony had done that needed this big an apology. She caught the movement from the corner of her eye, turned, and froze. 

She'd forgotten.

It was after one. She shouldn't be here. She should go. But she couldn't move. 

He was beautiful and cold, a figure carved from marble and obsidian. He moved towards her with the smooth agile grace of a predator, and scales glittered on his coat from the kitchen lights behind her. He was breathtaking and terrifying all at once, like a tsunami wave, tall and unstoppable. 

Loki was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know what I was waiting for  
> And my time was running wild  
> A million dead-end streets  
> And every time I thought I'd got it made  
> It seemed the taste was not so sweet - Changes, David Bowie
> 
> Tumblr stuff to come!


	6. Fear and loathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: last chapter went up Oct 7th 2015 - read it first if you haven't already.

He had waited in the dark every night for two weeks. 

He had been impossible to please during the negotiations. It was a tactic. Dragging his heels on every detail obscured what mattered to him in the mammoth contract and what did not. 

He could not seek others out, not yet. That was a carrot they kept for the future. But the permission to go to the common room in the darkest hours of the night had been given to him, carelessly, with ignorance of its true importance. If others sought _Loki_ out, the contract imposed no duty to be churlish and ignore them. 

So he came, and he waited, sitting in the seat he and Darcy used to share in the sunlight mere months before. He passed the time considering his options, making plans for the future. Then the light came on in the kitchen and all his plans were no longer needed. 

She was there. 

It was clear she had no idea of his presence. But according to the letter of the contract, that did not matter. Loki was never one to miss a loophole. And if he could only _speak_ to her, all would be well. 

Loki wove a spell quietly, a spell to shield them from prying eyes: JARVIS' and Heimdall's both. He embodied it in entwining flowers, more fitting than a shimmer of light, more subtle a way to get her attention. He smiled as she noticed and left the counter to examine the blooms as he knew she would. He knew her well. His Darcy. 

Another gesture saw his clothes shift to more courtly garments. As he crossed the room toward her a surge of protectiveness took him by surprise. He had not realized how small she was, how fragile. He could lift her in his arms and scarcely notice. He felt the urge to do just that, to take her away from this place, keep her from all others and protect her. 

And he wanted her. True, in a way he had wanted her for many months, but the desire in his mind was now made flesh. As he came closer her lips entranced him. It seemed impossible now that he could ever have looked at them without wanting to kiss them. Her eyes were dark in the dim room, her breath coming fast. The surge of need was overwhelming as he caught her scent, sweet and fresh through the smell of the roses. He drank in her beauty after arid weeks seeing her only through magic: at the dark curls caressing the white curve of her neck, the loose top obscuring the curves he knew better than he had any right to, the jeans clinging to her hips and legs. His eyes were drawn back to her lips. He wanted to touch. He wanted to taste. The words he had planned flew out of his mind completely.

"I have returned, as I promised," and he paused to restrain himself, to hold back the urgency in his voice. She still had not moved. 

"You have bewitched me. You have saved me from what I was. I want and need to make recompense to you for all you have done. Tell me how I can serve you. Tell me what would please you," and his voice dropped on the last words, for as he said them the many ways he would gladly please her came tumbling into his mind. He would kneel at her feet, if she wished it. He would worship with fingers and lips and tongue. 

She was still silent. Doubtless she was overwhelmed by his sudden appearance, yet she was far too still. It perplexed him, even as his fingers twitched with the need to touch her. Loki took the last step, ready to reach out his hand to touch her cheek. But before he could make the movement, Darcy bolted.

Quick as a flash, Loki moved between her and the door, his own eyes wide, disappointment bitter in his mouth. He studied her as she froze again and chided himself. Blind and foolish, for under the pink powder on her cheeks she was pale, her body stiff with apprehension, her eyes wide in terror not desire. Loki kept some little distance, bent to reduce his height and spoke softly, as if to a wild animal. "Do not fear me." 

Her voice came, creaky and faint. "I'm not afraid." 

There must have been something in his face that told of his disbelief because she reacted instantly. Her cheeks flushed and her fists clenched, switching from flight to fight in an instant. 

"Fuck you, okay? Yes, I'm afraid. I'd be a bonehead _not_ to be afraid. You fucking demolished a town _while I was in it_. While you were trying to kill my friend's boyfriend, who happens to be your _brother!_ " 

In battle she was more beautiful than ever, her eyes sparkling and chest heaving as she threw her words at him. Loki took a step towards her and she instantly stepped back. " Oh yeah, and then you tried to set up a god-damn _alien invasion _. You're a fucking _maniac_! And you're not supposed to be here so fuck off, douchebag, and leave me alone." __

"It is after one o'clock," Loki pointed out, voice silky calm. "By the terms of my contract, I have the right to be here." He took another step forward. 

Darcy stepped back again and yelled. "Back off! JARVIS! I need Tony!" 

Loki kept his voice low. "He cannot hear you. But I mean you no harm." The twist of her brow expressed how little she believed him and he felt a small stab of pain. "I swear by the Nine that I will not harm you. I merely wish to talk." 

"Well, I merely wish to go, dickhead." 

"Hear me, and then you may do as you will." She considered, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route. She clearly found none, for she huffed, crossing her arms and putting her weight on one hip. 

"I'm going to get my bag. You have five minutes and then I'm fucking out of here. Capiche?" 

He nodded, for her meaning was clear enough. She backed up to the counter, snatched her bag from it without taking her eyes off him for an instant and looped it across her body. Then she stepped forward boldly and resumed her pose, arms crossed, hip out, face hostile. She was valiant in her utter vulnerability, and he only wanted her more. 

It would not be the first time Loki had sought to convert hostility to desire, and he had succeeded more often than not. He might not be the golden prince of Asgard, but he was still a prince of Asgard, with a silver tongue to boot. He was still a prize worth winning, if only for a night. 

Her eyes widened as he knelt, the polished movement leading into an elegant bow. As he reached for her hand, she snatched it back. A pity - the customs of Asgard would not help him here. Still, this pose allowed him to look up at her appealingly, petite as she was. 

"You do not know what you have done," and Loki's voice was rich black velvet, twining around her. "You do not know your power. You have made a Prince of Asgard kneel. I have done wrong, I admit it. But it is in your power to ensure I never act so again." 

She snorted in a most unladylike manner. "Bullshit." 

"No, truth. You have the power to change me, you have the power to make what..." 

"Are you for real?" Darcy's eyes were narrowed, studying him as if she wasn't quite sure what she was looking at. "Are you really saying I should fix you?" Whatever she was looking for she found, because her eyes widened and her next words were louder. "Sweet holy fuck, that _is_ what you're saying. Are you fucking _kidding me_? What the fuck do you think I am, an emotional band-aid? You want to change, go and change yourself, you god-damn entitled _asshole_." 

"But you have already changed me," Loki persisted. He was on firm ground now. "You taught me to value humanity. I am not what I was before I became a cat..." 

Her interruption this time was sharp and vehement. 

"Shut up, liar." Her voice broke on the last word. Loki studied her for a moment but he could not read her face. Surely it was impossible that she had not realized.... 

"I was the cat you called Salem. You must know this." 

Darcy's eyes were wide and angry. "I said shut up!" Her voice was no louder, but filled with such vicious rage that Loki blinked. It made no sense. His next words were a soft whisper. 

"I am telling the truth." 

They both were still after he spoke, Darcy staring over his shoulder, Loki feeling the heat in him battle cold despair. He watched her arms tighten around herself, her face start to work and one hand escaping to clamp itself over her mouth. She was falling apart, but he did not understand why, and he did not know what to do. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was broken and pleading. "Please stop saying this. Stop it." 

"But it is the truth." He had come to her with honesty and still it availed him nothing. He would have been better with lies. 

Her hand was back over her mouth. One tear ran down her cheek. Her words were muffled. "All lies." 

He was powerless. He would give the Nine Realms to stop her tears. The desire to help her almost choked him, but he knew his touch would just make her flinch away. "No. Believe me." 

"It was all lies." Darcy's face twisted as more tears came. "It was you, you all the time. I thought Salem loved me but it was you, just you. Following me into the bathroom, looking at me naked...." 

He had come to her with his guard down and was now raw and bleeding. His head ached with conflicting desires and the sickness in his stomach mirrored the disgust curling her lip. He could not bear it. Anger broke through her tears. 

"You fucking _pervert_. You were oogling me the whole time! Did it get you off, spying on me? " 

There was a maelstrom inside his head, desire and shame and anger and disappointment and frustration all threatening to overwhelm him. He could not breathe, he could not look at her. In a movement he stood and turned away, head in his hands. His emotions grew, engulfing everything...and then there was nothing. 

It was as if something had snapped within him, leaving him empty and cold inside, his heart as desolate as the ice plains of Jotenheim. He turned, and the revulsion in her eyes no longer burned him. He felt a chilly contempt at her tears, at her reddened nose and relentless sniffing. It was foolish sentiment. It did not matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing would matter ever again. 

Darcy could see something change in him. She used to think describing green eyes as emerald was trite, but not this time. His eyes were hard and cold, and they glittered. Darcy stepped back convulsively, finding herself smack up against the counter. The small bump made the fork on her forgotten plate clink. Without taking her eyes off Loki, she thrust her hand into her bag and pulled up a green spray can. 

Loki's face was calm and serene though his eyes still had that chilly glitter. "Why, little one, do you have a gift for me? Or is this the famous weapon that brought down Thor?" 

Darcy held up the can and pointed it towards him. "Take one step closer and you'll find out." 

Loki's grin showed a little too much teeth to make her feel comfortable. "Do not forget that Thor was mortal then. Such a weapon will not work on a god." 

"Try it and see." Despite her best efforts Darcy's voice wavered. Loki's grin widened. 

"It matters not. I have sworn not to harm you. Do you not trust me, little one?" 

"No." 

"On that, as on so much, you are mistaken." Loki was standing straight, emphasising their difference in height. He was close enough that it was oppressive. "I will not harm you. You came here, to see me as I supposed, and I offered to repay my debt to you. You cared for me as a cat, no matter how little you wish to remember it now. You reject that payment but I offer it still. Come to me and _beg_ for my help and you shall have it." 

Darcy said nothing, but she was not frozen. Her face was still wet with tears but every line of her was alert. 

"As for the rest," and Loki's face changed a little, suggesting sympathetic reluctance, "I can understand how you would _wish_ to believe that I wanted you. But you know that is not the truth." Darcy's mouth twitched but she stayed silent. 

"I do not desire you," Loki went on, voice gentle. "I have no more desire for you than you would have for a cat." His voice held conviction, for at this moment it was true. All his desire was swallowed up by the void inside him. "I am sorry your belief otherwise causes you pain. Be assured that I thought as little of seeing you as you did of seeing the cat. I value humanity now but I have not sunk that low. You are beneath me." His lip curled much as hers had. 

He leaned forward a little to look into her eyes. Darcy flinched a little but did not back away. "Do you not believe me? Consider, if your own kind does not desire you, if Steve Rogers did not desire you despite your clinging and fawning, why do you think a god should do so? You must face the truth. I had thought, the way you hide your body, you already had." 

He leaned forward a little more, taking half a step forward but could say nothing before Darcy reflexively pressed the trigger on the spray can. Suddenly Loki was blind with searing pain. He heard Darcy stumbling away, giving him a wide berth as she rushed for the door. He did not care. He had no wish to speak to the Midgardian further. He had preserved his honor; none would know what he had wanted in a moment of madness. He was sane now. 

He focused on his magic, shutting out the burning and invoking a healing spell. He covered his eyes and they cooled. A breath, a gesture and the shield was gone as if it had never been. Not a petal was left of the flowers. 

All that was left was dim empty silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Tumblr time! Coming soon I hope.
> 
> The canof super-mace, fact fans, was created by Tony and tested on Thor in "That Darn Cat" chapter 19 [Cat and Mouse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1145128/chapters/7663355). Tony calls it Hulk-in-a-bottle, but only when Bruce isn't around.


	7. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Oct 9th 2015: Third day, third chapter - so make sure you read those first!

Tony Stark hovered and cursed outside Stark Tower. He was at the level of the common room but could see squat. Clint had ears on Loki and Darcy, but he wasn't sharing. 

"Tell Barton he's a dick," Tony said to JARVIS. Clint was only accepting communications from JARVIS, tapping out a response in code to reply. 

"I fear I cannot adequately communicate Agent Barton's response," and there was definite amusement in the AI's voice. Great. 

Tony signed and fired the thrusters, bobbing up, then letting himself drop down a little. He waited then repeated the exercise. This was possibly the most frustrated he had ever been. He didn't _do_ waiting. Everyone knew he didn't do waiting. And being handed things. This was _ridiculous_. 

"Tell Barton...," but the AI cut across him. "Sir, Darcy Lewis has appeared. She is in a state of some distress. Agent Barton is going after her, he has signalled that you should deal with the other party." 

"Fuck that," Tony said. "Darcy's upset, I'm going after Darcy. Clint can look after Tiddles." He fired up the thrusters and started to rise. "JARVIS, immediate scan of Darcy Lewis, check all vital..." 

The thrusters died, settling into a hover. He scowled but JARVIS spoke before Tony could, the AI's level voice conveying understanding and sympathy. "Sir, scans suggest Ms Lewis is physically unharmed. Have you considered, sir, that Agent Barton will be unable to deal with the other party, if hostile? Darcy needs you to do this." 

"I hate it when you're logical," Tony complained. "Fine. I'm going in." 

"I'll open the window, sir," the AI said. 

Despite the size of the common room windows, Tony had to turn sideways to fit the huge bulk of the armor through as he blasted into the room. He landed and the floor crunched beneath his weight. He could swear he could hear the AI draw in a disapproving breath. 

Loki was on the other side of the counter, fork in hand, a half eaten piece of pie on a plate in front of him. The ice cream on the side was almost melted. A quick scan of the room revealed no anomalies besides a tiny dart stuck in the ceiling and a green spray can rolled up at the base of the counter. _Good job, Darce._

Loki's eyes turned up to look at Tony, as casually as if Tony had just walked in. "Mr Stark, I presume?" and the words held just the right amount of surprise. "You appear to be a little over-dressed." The plate was pushed forward. "Do you wish to try some? It is truly delicious." 

Tony walked the few remaining steps across the protesting wood, grabbed the front of Loki's fancy-ass alien jacket across the counter, and hauled. Annoyingly, Loki managed to retain his dignity, avoiding the pie and hanging relaxed from the Hulk-buster's mighty arm once he was over the counter. Tony _really_ liked being taller than Loki. He gave the god a little shake. That was pretty satisfying too. 

He pulled the grinning face close to his faceplate. "I, asshole, am your worst fucking nightmare." He stomped back over to the open window. "Defenestration. Great word. Explain why I shouldn't give you a practical demonstration right now." 

If Loki kept grinning like that Tony was going to have to remove some of his teeth. "If you wish to throw me off the building Mr Stark, then please, be my guest. I assure you, I will not be harmed. I just wish to know _why_. " 

"Don't fuck with me, Tiddles. I can take you and you know it." Tony took a breath. "Darcy. That's why." 

The smile faded. "Is she not well? She seemed perfectly well when she left. A little _emotional_ perhaps..." 

The gauge tracking Tony's blood pressure rose sharply. "Sir," JARVIS said in Tony's ear, "According to the contract, if there is an incident Prince Loki must remain contained until the investigation into it is complete. Only if he resists or personnel are injured can we take physical countermeasures. I fear, tempting as it is, we will have to drop him out a window another day." 

"Remarkably bloodthirsty for you, J," Tony replied. "I approve." He clicked back on the outside speaker. "It's an incident. We have to investigate. While we investigate you get back in your box. Read the damn contract." 

"Very well." Loki waited, still dangling. "I believe I know the way?" 

"Are you sure? You could resist. Please, go ahead and resist." 

Loki's grin reappeared, wide and deeply irritating. "I fear, Mr Stark, you do not have my best wishes at heart." 

"You know, I feel the same about you. How 'bout I walk you to your dorm?" 

The armor clomped across the floor, though the double doors and down the corridor to the specially reinforced elevator. Loki still dangled from the Hulkbuster's arm like a kitten. Loki tilted his head as he was carried in. 

"You planned ahead for this. Such foresight." 

"You're not that special, Chairman Meow." 

"Ah. This was for the Beast, then." 

Invisible in the suit, Tony rolled his eyes . "Keep on digging, you might get somewhere." The Earth's molten core, if it was up to Tony. 

The rest of the trip passed in silence. Loki was dropped, none too gently, outside his door. He opened it, started to go in, then turned. "Does your lady know of your...concern for Darcy Lewis?" His silky voice somehow made "concern" sound dirty and sordid. 

"Yeah. She shares it." Tony paused. "Enjoy Hulk-in-a-bottle? It was a present from us." 

Loki closed the door without a word. Tony turned and went back to the elevator. He only spoke again when he was back in the penthouse, armor off and a beer in his hand. 

"JARVIS, did he eat any of that pie?" 

"No, sir." 

"Didn't think so." 

* * *

Darcy ran. 

She didn't think, she didn't plan, she ran with just one aim, to get as far away as possible. When Clint stepped out in front of her she screamed. 

"It's okay, Darcy," and he caught her in his arms. "It's okay. You're safe. Shhhh. You were always safe, I was there." 

Darcy relaxed for a moment against his chest, listening to the slow beating of his heart, letting her own heart stop racing and then his words caught up with her. "You were there? Why the hell," and she thumped him in the chest repeatedly "Didn't. You. Stop. It?" She leaned her forehead against his chest and his arms settled around her again. "Fucking hell, Clint." 

"Come on," Clint said into her hair. "Let's get you some tea and we'll talk." 

" _You'll_ talk," huffed Darcy, but she went. 

"Please tell me you didn't plan this," she said in the elevator. "That the pie wasn't a lure or something." 

Clint looked at her in surprise. "You ate my pie?" 

"You didn't know?" 

"I couldn't see what you were eating. You went and ate my pie?" 

"You had three slices." 

" _My_ three slices. For _me_." 

"Hey, cut me some slack. I just went toe-to-toe with a god," but somehow the exchange reassured Darcy more than anything else he could have said. 

"My pie," he muttered, but his hands were gentle on her shoulders as he guided her into the apartment. 

"So why were you there?" Darcy asked, once she was installed on Clint's couch, a blanket wrapped around her and a cup of tea in her hand. 

Clint sat in Coulson's chair and gathered his thoughts. "We didn't know why he was here," he said at last. "Loki. It could have been you, it could have been something else. Since he came, we've been keeping an eye on you, just in case. Tasha and me." 

"Steve didn't know," he added quickly, as Darcy's eyes widened. "And that's not why we go to Hells Kitchen with you either." He stretched and looked around. "God, it's good to get out of here sometimes." 

Darcy was processing this. "So why didn't you stop me walking in there? Seriously, Clint, I thought I'd die when I saw him." 

Clint could empathize. He could still remember the horror when Darcy vanished and the room was apparently empty. It took a second to realize the plate and mug had vanished too, a second more to fire the dart towards the ceiling and hope it was an illusion. The relief he felt when he saw Darcy's words coming up on his wrist display was still with him. He leaned over and patted the blanket on her knee. "If I made the wrong call, I'm sorry. I thought you might be going there to confront him...I thought the right thing to do was go with it." 

"Yeah, that was seriously the wrong call," Darcy said, a frown between her eyes. "You should have yanked me out of there." 

Clint's eyes narrowed, an expression half calculation, half concern. "Should I? I didn't want to take your choice away from you. I got Tony, I had ears on you, we were ready to go in if you needed us. And I think you said stuff that needed to be said." 

There was silence in the room as Darcy considered this. 

"Okay," she said at last. "I guess...I think I'm glad I got to say what I said. And I guess it's good to know its nothing to do with me, him being here. Far as he's concerned, I'm nothing." She put the cup down and Clint patted her knee again. 

"Want to stay here? I need to talk to Tasha about this, and she'll have to debrief you in the morning." He watched her shoulders relax and saw that she hadn't wanted to go back to Jane's. This was going to shake things up. 

He tucked her up in the big bed like she was one of his own. "Sleep, princess," he said as he turned down the light. "Holler if you need me, I'll be right outside" 

* * *

"You did well," Natasha said approvingly, as Darcy finished her story. The longer a debrief was left, the more inaccurate the report, so it had taken place over a very late breakfast. Darcy looked shocked, the toast stopped dead halfway to her mouth. 

"He _crept up_ on me. I just _froze_." 

"And then you kept your distance, retrieved your bag in a natural way and deployed the spray." Natasha leaned across and took both of Darcy's hands "You expect too much of yourself. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for. Any of us. I'm proud of you." 

Darcy looked half pleased, half disbelieving. "Really? You're not just saying that?" 

"Since when have I ever just said anything?" Natasha asked with a crooked smile. "So, what are we going to do now? Are you going back to Jane's?" 

Darcy's eyes widened. "I don't know." Her forehead creased and she shook her head. "I don't know. I can't go back to Jane." 

"Why?" asked Natasha gently, though she knew the answer. 

"She...she _knew_ ," Darcy said. "She knew and she let him be in my room. She let me _hug_ him," and her face started to crease. "I don't know...I can't deal with that right now." 

"You don't have to," said Clint, jumping onto the seat beside her. "You can stay with me or Natasha until you've decided what to do." 

* * *

Loki blinked as the door burst open. The meeting with Jane was scheduled, to be sure, but he had not expected her to come. She seemed agitated, but he could not bring himself to care. The void still howled inside him.

"You had to do it, didn't you? You couldn't just leave her alone. And now she won't see me and she's hurting and I can't help and it's all down to _you_." Jane paused to take a sorely needed breath and eyed Loki's expression of polite disinterest. "I should sock you in the jaw." 

"That would merely break your hand and entertain me, so I would advise against it." Strangely, this advice seemed to enrage Jane more than calm her. To play with her this way had some satisfaction in it, as playing with Stark had. Their anger could not touch him. 

He watched Jane's knuckles whiten with clinical interest. The bone-white faded just before she flung herself sideways into a chair across from him. 

"And that's it? She cared for you, you've caused her major emotional upset and that's all you have to say?" 

Appealing to Loki's better nature. Clearly Thor had influenced her views - few else would suspect Loki _had_ a better nature. Such a shame the majority were right. 

"She suffered 'emotional upset', as you put it, precisely because she cared for me." The emptiness lent him clarity. He could trace the logic of Jane's emotions. "And that is why you are so angry with me, is it not? You sent me to her. Your decision has done this to her." 

Jane was staring at him, eyes bleak. "I hate you right now, but you're right. I know you're right." She ran her hands through her hair. "God, this is a mess." Then she looked up keenly. "But you're avoiding the question." 

"I do not see why your friend's emotional outburst should matter to me." Nothing mattered, sentiment least of all. 

"Don't you?" Jane asked. "I know that you care..." 

"ENOUGH!" Loki barked and struck the table. Jane stared at him. Despite the sudden outburst, he seemed as cold as ever. 

"JARVIS is now listening to a rather entertaining rant on the difference between Realms," Loki said, once more dispassionate. "Our conversation now is private." 

"You can't do that, you can't use magic..." 

"There is no rule against it. There will be shortly, so you do not need to incur my displeasure by telling Mr Stark. You do not want to displease me." His face was bland but his eyes were chilling and his voice held a definite threat. "So I can tell you that whatever you _think_ you know, you should keep it to yourself. Have you done so?" 

Jane studied him and her lip curled. "I could care less about your insecurity. I haven't said anything. I wouldn't do that to Darcy." 

"If so," Loki drawled, "you should be more careful where you speak. The walls have ears, I believe you people say." But Jane had caught the supercilious eyebrow raise. 

"You don't get it, do you? You're not a prince here. You're a war criminal making reparations." She paused to study him. "Do you not know that you're terrifying?" 

Loki flashed a wide feral smile. "That is my aim. As your Machiavelli says, it is better to be feared than loved." He studied Jane in turn. "But you are not terrified." 

"I'm curious," and it was true. Her mother had often said it would get her killed. And that was before Einstein-Rosen Bridges and gods and alien invasions. "And Thor will hurt you if you hurt me. So, are you leaving?" 

Loki stared as her as if she was an idiot. "Why should I? I came to make recompense for my actions. Nothing has changed." 

"So when are you going to _start_?" Jane leaned across the table. "Two weeks and you're deliberately giving nothing away. Aren't you?" 

Loki shrugged. "If you are incapable of understanding the most basic..." 

Jane cut in. "No. Just no. Stop the bullshit. Two weeks of bullshit and now you're a complete asshole to someone I care about. You plan to help for real, you can let me know. Until then, I'm not interested." 

As she stood, Loki rose too and waved a hand. Jane's lip curled in contempt. 

"Remember what I said." Loki's voice lacked all emotion. 

"You too," and the door slammed after her. Loki's lips curved up, slow and cold as a glacier. 

* * *

"There are positives," Natasha observed as Darcy pottered off to have a bath. "She is no longer in denial about what happened. And we have more clarity over Loki's motives." 

" _She_ doesn't," Clint said. They exchanged glances. 

"She has too low an opinion of herself," said Natasha, as matter-of-factly as if she was saying Darcy had blue eyes. "And she believes what others say." 

"May be for the best, this time," said Clint, rubbing his hair the wrong way. 

Natasha nodded. "It would probably be wise to leave the prince his dignity, since he prizes it so much." 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before exchanging glances again. 

"This place isn't good for her," said Clint. 

Natasha nodded. They both had reached the same conclusion. For now at least, Darcy should not be in the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Machiavelli: "It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both."


	8. Snakes

Loki slept a dreamless sleep. He woke as empty as he had been when he fell asleep. He felt nothing. It was liberation. 

The world was sharp and clear, without sentiment to cloud it, without desires to distract. The only urge he had left was to survive. He followed routines, those he had set for himself and those set by the contract. The latter saw him in the training room at the appointed hour. Clint was waiting there alone. 

Loki looked around, a little theatrically to make the point. "The Captain is not here?" he said, in mock surprise. 

Clint shrugged one shoulder non-committally, in a way strangely reminiscent of the Widow. "He's on a mission," Clint said. "He wasn't due to be here." 

Loki's lips thinned. "And he will be here tomorrow?" 

That non-committal half-shrug again. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." 

The thin lips twisted into a sneer. "Ah, sentiment. He cares so deeply. So why are you here?" The next words were a taunt. "Don't you care about poor little Darcy?" 

The only reaction his mocking gained him was Clint's eyebrows going up a fraction. "If you're finished," Clint said levelly, "we can get to work." 

Loki's lips relaxed into a grin. "A true professional," he remarked. "How very unfeeling of you." 

"You're an asshole," Clint said, without any particular emphasis. He paused, as if waiting for Loki's reaction, then went on. "That's fine, by the way. Can't throw a rock in SHIELD without hitting an asshole. That's not the problem." 

Loki relaxed against a wall. "So there is a problem," he said conversationally. 

"You can't control your emotions," Clint said. "That _is_ a problem. That will keep you out of the field." 

Loki's face was all supercilious surprise. "I assure you, archer, I do not have any emotions. Do not presume you understand me." 

Clint shrugged, a full shrug this time. "Hey, got no idea what's going on in your head, I just know it looks like." 

It was Loki's turn to shrug. "Your struggle to comprehend my motives is amusing." 

"You could be trying to get out of your contract," and Clint's eyes narrowed as assessing the distance to a target. "If you piss people off enough it'll get rescinded. But that would mean you'd failed, and you don't like to fail." 

He watched Loki's muscles tighten almost imperceptibly. The faux amusement was still on his face but the alien's eyes now had all the inviting warmth of jagged glass and a fifty foot drop. Clint knew potential death when he saw it. 

Clint never felt afraid when he was about to die. Wired wrong, he guessed. Instead time slowed down and he was flying, not falling. His brain worked faster. Jumping off buildings was, paradoxically, a survival tactic. 

"Did you think you could get in my head and it would be a one-way street?" he said softly to the alien. "Right now, you need me. I'm the only one who'll work with you. The other way - that ends with an arrow through your eye socket." 

There was a long silence in the gym. Loki was neutrality personified. Even his eyes were blank, the jagged glitter shuttered away, and Clint had no idea what he was thinking. He leaned against the wall, formidable even in this casual pose, perfectly capable of snapping Clint in two with his bare hands. A snake about to strike would not be more still. 

"Want to work now?" Clint's sense of self-preservation was apparently still on the fritz. 

"Yes, _sir_ ," said Loki, straightening up, sarcasm in his every movement. 

The rest of the session was all business, Clint showing exactly the same professionalism he had always shown. Loki lost himself in the familiar motions, in knives and spear. The cold chilly logic behind his eyes saw the truth in the archer's words. He would not return to Asgard again defeated. All this was meaningless, but it could still be a victory of sorts. 

* * *

Rhodey sat on the leather couch in his Airforce uniform, body leaning forward alertly. "I told you so," he told the chair opposite. 

"You're approximately 50% less attractive when you do that," Tony said, slouched in the chair. "Scratch that, 90%" 

" _This_ face," and Rhodey outlined the face in question, in case there was any doubt, "This face can take it." Rhodey sprawled back on the couch, threw his head back to the ceiling and drew out the words. "Toooold you soooo." 

"You're a snake, Rhodes. This isn't funny. Why are you here again?" 

Rhodey straightened up, face serious. "I know it's not. And I'm here because Pepper asked me." 

Pepper chose that moment to walk in, folders in the crook of her arm, trim and smart in a beige suit. The folders went on the coffee table, then the heels were kicked off, her hair swung loose and she curled up on the couch beside Rhodey. Rhodey shifted, reached a long arm down and paused. 

"Beer or water?" 

"Water." Pepper took a long drink, then looked at the two men. "I got the report from Natasha. We need to decide what action to take." 

"Kick him out," and Rhodey shrugged. "Simple" 

"What Rhodey said," Tony agreed. "I pick his brains and then we kick him out." 

"That's not what I said," Rhodey objected. 

"He's got info I need," Tony said. "After that, he can go to hell. I've no time for what he did." 

"I love it when you take the moral high ground," Rhodey said, cocking an eye at Pepper and back across at Tony. 

"Hey, I _have_ the moral high ground. When I got in there, he was putting on a front. Now, no idea if he made a pass..." 

"Darcy says no," Pepper said. 

Tony shifted gear. "Even if he made a pass," Tony said, "what kind of guy gets all passive aggressive about it when he gets a no?" Tony cocked an eyebrow across at Rhodey. "You gotta admit I never did, Rhodey. It's disrespectful and that's _me_ saying that." 

"Getting back to the point," Pepper said, "and based on Natasha's report, I think we should move this up the schedule." She tossed a folder at Tony's feet. He bent, picked it up, opened it then shut it again quickly, as if afraid something would get out. 

"No, Pep. We talked about this." 

" _You_ talked about it," Pepper said. "It needs to be done. Now seems like the perfect time." 

"Not for me." 

"No time is perfect for you. Perfect for Darcy." 

"There's got to be another way," Tony groused. 

"If you have one, I'm ready to listen." Pepper noticed Rhodey's brows drawn together in confusion. "Tour of the SI facilities. For the past fourteen months Tony has only been here and LA. It's been too long. He needs to touch base in the US branches at least...Chicago, Boston, Palo Alto..." 

"Okay," said Rhodey. "So where do I come in?" 

"If Tony is off-site, we need backup. I want you to train Natasha to use the Hulk-buster." 

"What?" and Tony's eyebrows shot up into his hairline "You know Legal's been trying to get into the suit for ever. You're just going to let her?" 

Pepper gave him a level stare. "It's her or Clint." 

"Jesus," said Tony, threw his head back and threw his arm across it. 

"Are you still sure it's worth keeping him here?" Rhodey asked the arm. 

"Nope," the muffled voice of Tony said. He peeked out. "When do I grill the guy if I'm not here?" 

"It's all in the schedule," Pepper said. 

"Well, guess I'm in if it gets the guy gone faster," Rhodey said, and took another swig of beer to hide his grin as Tony groaned again. 

* * *

The next day, Darcy was peeking around the door of Pepper's office. "Hey Pepper," she said, her voice subdued. 

"Hi Darcy," Pepper smiled, and clicked _save_ on the document she was working on. "What can I do for you?" 

"Can I talk to you about the tour?" 

Pepper studied Darcy for a second, noting the tension in her face, then stretched her back. "Sure. Would it be okay if we do it over coffee? I've been looking at this too long." Which was true. She grinned as Darcy immediately waggled her finger. 

"Do I need to start checking on _you_ , boss?" 

"If I didn't think Tony might die, I'd certainly steal you," and Pepper's smile was answered by Darcy's, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. 

They settled down in Starkbucks. Pepper took a long sip from her skinny latte. Darcy left her mocha untouched and fidgeted. 

"Is something wrong, Darcy?" Pepper asked as the silence stretched. 

"Is this about me?" Darcy blurted out, waving the itinerary. 

Pepper had been expecting the question or something like it. "Not entirely," she said, and to her relief Darcy suddenly relaxed. 

"I didn't know if you'd tell me," Darcy said. "Like, if it was about me." 

Pepper shrugged. "I trust you with Tony. He's the most valuable thing in the world to me. It would be inconsistent of me to do that and not trust your judgement." 

"Maybe you shouldn't, though," Darcy said, prodding the foam on her mocha with a spoon. 

"Too late," said Pepper smiling. She reached across and touched Darcy's hand. "What do you want to know?" 

Darcy's eyes looked straight into Peppers. "Are you trying to get me out of here?" 

Pepper's gaze never wavered. "Yes and no. This was always the plan. Tony has been holed up here over a year. It's been noticed. And for you...it gives you the opportunity to see more of the company, get a sense of how it works. But the timing...yes, we brought it forward." She paused again. "Is that a problem?" 

"I don't know," and Darcy's spoon was back prodding the foam. Pepper waited, and eventually Darcy spoke again. "I don't like not knowing what's going on, you know?" 

"Yes, I know," said Pepper gently, and because she really did know, would never forget the tension of not knowing, the fear of one day hearing the final coda of a song she didn't know was playing, she shifted around to touch shoulders with Darcy. "I'm sorry," and when Darcy turned into her, Pepper put her arm around her. She could feel Darcy's shoulders shake, but when she lifted her face there wasn't a single teardrop on Pepper's grey suit. 

"Wow," said Darcy, shaking her head. Her hand shook a little as she picked up the mocha. Pepper kept her arm draped loosely around her shoulder. 

"Darcy," Pepper said softly, "I'm really sorry. I mishandled this. I should have spoken to you before sending on the itinerary. But...," and she waited for Darcy to look up again, "just because Tony is going doesn't mean you have to. We'll accommodate you." 

"Does Tony even want to go?" Darcy asked. 

"Of course not!" Pepper shook her head in frustration. "Does he ever want to do anything that's good for him?" When Pepper met Darcy's eyes again, they had lost their sombre look and were smiling instead. 

Stupid question, right?" Darcy grinned. She took a drink of her mocha as Pepper's smile faded, leaving her serious. 

"Darcy," she said softly, "I honestly think this is an opportunity for you, but it's up to you. No-one is going to push you into anything. I won't let them." 

* * *

"So what are you doing?" Steve was back from his mission at last. He was sitting on Clint's couch with Darcy on his knee cuddled into him. Clint tactfully had decided to be someplace else. 

"I don't know," Darcy said, looking up at him. "If I don't go, Pepper's going to keep Tony alive. She'll be there anyway. If I do, I can come visit every weekend, see Yolanda...so it's not like it's a total change." 

"How's therapy going?" asked Steve. His fingers on her back moved a little in reassurance. 

"Good, I guess," and Darcy shrugged. "I can't tell. Yolanda says I'm doing good, but I feel like I'm moving backwards." 

"It takes time," said Steve, pulling her in closer. "Look at me. Took almost two years to decide to visit Peggy. Might still chicken out." 

Darcy pulled back to look at him. His mouth was turned down. "For reals? You're going to visit? Steve, I'm so proud of you!" She dived back in and hugged him tight. 

"I'm ashamed it took so long," Steve said to the top of Darcy's head as he pulled her closer. "It's down to you, Darce." 

Darcy looked up. "Stop putting yourself down, doofus. It's you!" 

"Nope," said Steve, popping the "p" just like Darcy did. She grinned, just like he wanted her to. "I was in a hole and you got me out. I'm here for you now, doll, whenever you need it. 

* * *

The tiny bar was uncomfortable and the music was too loud. Yet in the early days after the incident it was Darcy's favourite bar. She and Steve would sit among the loners and listen to music neither of them knew. (Well, until they'd started to recognise tracks and started to develop a strange shared knowledge of 80s music that occasionally made Tony raise an eyebrow in surprise.) One day the hipsters would find it and destroy it with their love, but until then it was a good place to go, think, and not be bothered. 

Darcy went alone. She needed to think this through for herself. Sides, there was a 99.9% chance either Nat or Clint was on her tail so not exactly in any danger, even if the mace tucked into her bag didn't work. (Hulk-in-a-bottle still lurked in its own special pocket in her bag, pretending to be paint.) 

When she opened the door the music hit like a wall of sound. _A girl needs a gun these days, hey on account of all the rattlesnakes_. "You're not wrong, sister," Darcy muttered to herself as she went to the bar and signalled for a beer. 

She sat in a tiny booth alone, totally fitting in except for being female and under 55. 

She sipped the beer and thought, but her thoughts just ran around her head. Steve had only made things more complicated, offering to move out of the Tower with her. She could leave SI...she could stay and travel with Tony...stay in the Tower...move city... Round and round the options went, until familiar guitar notes rang out. 

"Seriously?" Darcy groused at the ceiling as Joe Strummer ground out the first words. _Darling you've got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?_ "Not helping!" 

This was a waste of time. She was getting nowhere. She got up and went for the door, colliding with a guy before she got there. 

Her first thought was that the guy was far to into the 80s vibe. Sunglasses inside, at night? Please, only someone with the massive planet shattering ego of Tony Stark could pull that one off. 

The second was to realize, as she picked him up off the floor, that the guy was blind. Crap. 

"Jeeze, I'm so sorry..." 

He cut in, loudly over the music. "No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." There was a pause after this, and then Darcy spluttered and laughed. As she did the guy smiled a boyish and entirely charming smile. 

"If you wouldn't mind," and he held out his arm. "I was trying to get to the alcove somewhere over there..." and Darcy found herself walking with her hand in the crook of his arm, directing him over to a guy with long reddish hair and a long suffering expression. He stood up as they approached and put out a hand to Darcy. 

"Hi," he yelled. "I'm Foggy and that's Matt." He paused, watching as Matt settled himself on the bench. "Going to the bar, want anything?" 

"No," Darcy yelled back, letting go of the hand. 

"See you in ten," Foggy replied and was gone. Darcy stood undecided next to the table for a moment, then shrugged and slid across. The volume of the music dropped as she moved in. 

"We're behind the speakers - they're attached to the wall," Matt said in a normal voice, as if reading her thoughts. "Nice spot, means you can talk without being over heard." He paused, "Foggy and I, we're partners." Any surmises Darcy might have made evaporated as he slid a card across the table. 

"Attorneys at law?" Darcy cocked an eyebrow. "Like, ambulance chasing not been working out so you've moved on to bars?" A terrible thought struck her. "You're not _hurt_ are you? Cos all I have is student debt, seriously." 

Matt's grin lit up his face. "No. I'll sign an affidavit if it makes you more comfortable." His voice lowered just enough to be audible over the music. "It's just that attorney-client privilege would apply if you had me on retainer. Even if it was only a dollar. If you needed to talk." 

He stopped then and sat, head cocked a little as if listening. He was cute and Darcy found herself wondering just how long it was since she'd talked to a cute guy in a bar who wasn't a scientist or a secret agent or an Avenger. How had her life become this? 

Darcy looked at the door. She could leave, sure, but then what? She knew a ton of people but still had no-one to talk this over with. Everyone had their own angle, even Steve. Family was out too - no way she could even start this story without Mom asking a million questions. The guy, Matt, was totally relaxed waiting for her to make up her mind. 

"Foggy says I've a sixth sense." Matt broke the silence. "Everyone has a time where they need help. If you need help, I'm here." Before she could change her mind Darcy dug two half dollars out of her pocket and tapped them against Matt's hands folded on the table. He took them, clicking them in his fingers before folding his hands again with the coins inside. "I'm on retainer for the next hour. Anything you say now is confidential." He raised his eyebrows over the dark glasses. "So what's the problem?" 

"I'm not going to use names." Darcy thought it was better to get that out of the way first. "And it's trivial and kinda dumb, but it's bothering me, so." She paused, looked around and gathered her thoughts. Foggy was still at the bar. 

"There's this guy, in the place that I work," she started. "He's new. And he's got a bad reputation." The next words popped out before she could stop them. "He's dangerous." She waited for Matt to tell her she was being melodramatic, but he just nodded and then was still, listening sympathetically. 

"He came up to me, about a week ago, when we were alone. He said...he offered to help me." 

"Did he proposition you?" Matt asked. 

"No." Matt looked like he knew there was more. Darcy reflected. "Like, I thought he was, but he wasn't. I said I didn't want his help and he got mean." 

"Did he touch you?" Matt's face had become grim and Darcy hastened to reassure him. 

"No, nothing like that...but he upset me." Darcy suddenly had an inspiration how to explain. "I sorta knew him before...over email. And I thought he was kinda a friend. But in real life he was a douche. And I feel stupid for ever liking him." 

"So what did your employer do?" Matt asked. 

"It was outside work, so I didn't report it," Darcy said. "But they know. And they want me to relocate." 

"That's inexcusable," Matt said. "You're the injured party. You shouldn't be sidelined." 

"Yes!" said Darcy. "That's what it feels like. It's like, I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I have to go? It was all fine until he showed up with his stupid flowers...and stuff." Darcy quickly cut off any more details as Matt's eyebrows twitched, absorbing this new information. "But to be totally fair it's not being sidelined. It's a great opportunity. And they're paying a clothes allowance." 

Matt smiled again at the last comment, then looked serious. "What about the guy?" 

"I think..." and Darcy gathered her thoughts again, "I don't know. I don't think they can move him. Not any time soon. I think...my boss hopes he'll be gone soon." 

"Okay," and Darcy thought Matt looked kinda relieved. "So what are your options?" 

Darcy shrugged, then realized Matt couldn't see it. "I can go. I can stay, but I won't be able to do my current job for a while. The guy I work with is relocating too," she added in answer to Matt's enquiring expression. A crease appeared between his eyebrows. 

"So if you stay, your job's gone?" 

"I guess I'll move to a different department," but Darcy's stomach swooped. Who would she work with? Jane? She still hadn't even managed to talk to her. Bruce didn't need her. She trusted Pepper to do her best, but she had no idea where she might end up. 

"Any other options?" Matt prompted as the silence grew longer. 

"I could just leave," Darcy said slowly. "Get a job somewhere else. A friend, he suggested we could share a place together. Maybe a new city...," but saying that, all Darcy could see were disadvantages. She was not going to work for SHIELD even if they'd take her, which they wouldn't. So she'd be out in the wild, back to square one, with a killer CV, true... 

"Yeah, it's tough out there," Matt said, interpreting her silence correctly. 

"Yeah." Somehow talking to someone who didn't know anything about it made it all a lot clearer. 

"Would you like advice from your attorney?" Matt asked. 

"Sure," Darcy said. "What else am I paying you for?" and Matt smiled widely. 

"I've only one piece of advice: work out what you really want and go for that. Try not to worry about what others want, about what that douche might think, do what works for you." He paused, and adopted the type of tone inspirational speakers use. "I did, and look at me..." and he waved a hand at the seedy bar around him, "deep in debt and touting for business in dive bars." 

"Wow. You're totally my new role model," said Darcy, grinning. 

"Of course, and please," and he was serious again. "Keep the card. In case you ever need it. Foggy and I will be there, if we're not in a bar." 

"Okay," said Darcy, tucking it into her jeans pocket and looking up. Foggy was finally back. "Guys, gotta go. Thanks, Matt. Nice to meet you, Foggy." 

"See you around," said Matt, getting one last smile from Darcy. 

"Nice to meet you too," Foggy said. He put the two beers down and watched her as she left. 

"Your sixth sense strikes again," Foggy said as he put the beer into Matt's hand. He rolled his eyes as Matt looked innocent and inquiring. "Hot and in trouble," Foggy clarified. "It's unnatural." 

Matt was playing with the coins. "Maybe people who are hot get into more trouble," he said thoughtfully. 

"Is she in trouble?" Foggy asked, his brows coming down in concern. 

"She's in with a dangerous crowd," Matt said. 

Foggy shrugged. "She hangs out with Captain America. I think she already knows." 

"I hope so," said Matt, and spun the half dollars across the table. 

* * *

He woke in the darkest hour of the night. There was no reason for it. He could remember no dreams and no sound could reach him here, deep below the ground. 

The empty space inside Loki was no longer empty. 

There was pressure behind his eyes and his head hurt as if his brain were crushed in bands of iron. He ached, pressure squeezing around his heart, coils of pain writhing in his belly. He remained silent, only turning over to huddle, knees drawn up to his chest under the covers. He knew he was watched and was determined to show no weakness. 

Later, perhaps, he would be glad of this. When he did not care he became careless, throwing away useful and useless alike. But now he could only suffer, memories stabbing like little venomous bites in the dark. 

_...maniac...douchebag..._ " 

_It was you, just you._

_Do you not know that you're terrifying?_

He could not cry, even if he wanted to. His eyes burned as they did in the common room, as if dipped in poison. But no tears came. 

In a time long past he had wept in Frigga's arms. When he was older he had turned wine and swords to snakes in return for slights. But he had drawn back from Frigga in the quest to be a warrior many eons ago. There was no-one now to soothe the pain, no trick big enough to embody it. 

There was only one recourse. Loki did what he had long done and pushed the pain away, down into the depths of himself. He breathed deep and by force of will wretched away the intrusive memories, tore away the coils from his mind and heart and gut. For a moment a thought flashed through his mind, of the great serpent Níðhöggr, the punisher of the dishonourable, gnawing on the root of Yggdrasil. Then that too was banished, as he turned his mind to the spells he was researching and how to work on them unnoticed while being watched. The problems were engrossing enough to distract him completely. 

He was in control again. There was sadness, but it did not master him. The pain was gone from his mind and body. 

But deep within him, unseen and unremarked, something was gnawing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to wiki "In Norse mythology, Níðhöggr (Malice Striker, often anglicized Nidhogg) is a dragon who gnaws at a root of the world tree, Yggdrasil. In historical Viking society, níð was a term for a social stigma implying the loss of honor and the status of a villain."


	9. Compromised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Yes, life chewed me up and then swallowed me. Have a little space for writing again and determined to get this finished if it kills me. Hope it was worth the (incredibly long) wait and really, lots of apologies.

Darcy said yes. She'd be stupid not to. After the bar she'd gone home and looked at the itinerary again. Just reading the city names made her sure she wanted to go. She wanted to see all the places she'd never seen. She was running to, not away from. She tried not to suspect she was deceiving herself. Luckily, she didn't really have time for introspection. 

It was a crazy two weeks, what with the shopping and the packing and the goodbyes. Darcy was going to miss the Tower despite everything: the familiar coffee shop, the labs, the nights out with the guys... 

"We'll miss you too," said Natasha. They were in one of their go-to bars in Hell's Kitchen. Steve was at the bar, picking up three bottles of beer. Transaction over, the barman's business-like smile turned to brilliance as he turned back to the woman sitting at the bar. Their fingers met as they laughed, and a little stab of almost-but-not-quite envy made Darcy sigh. "But you need a life," Natasha finished, apparently not noticing, but noticing everything. 

Darcy opened her mouth as if to say something then closed it as a clatter of bottles arrived at the table. "Ladies," Steve said with a grin, and handed out the drinks. 

"Could we have a moment?" Natasha asked. Steve looked at her, and there was a swift communication that Darcy couldn't read.

"Sure," said Steve and wandered off. He stopped to exchange a word with a young man with a eagle tattoo and haunted eyes... Darcy's train of thought was interrupted by Natasha touching her hand. "What's the problem?" she asked. 

Darcy contemplated stalling, but hey, this was Natasha, so what was the point? "I think I made the right choice," she said bluntly. "But now it's about to happen...maybe I should have cut loose." 

Nat's head went on one side. "Because you feel you were railroaded into it?" 

Darcy nodded. "That's it. Exactly it! Pepper said she wouldn't force me into anything but she kinda did. I...I guess I didn't think Tony and Pepper would do that, so it's making me anxious about the future...you know?" 

Natasha nodded back. "You shouldn't worry about that. It wasn't their decision. It was mine." She took a sip delicately from the bottle then studied Darcy's face. "I am not lying to make you feel better. It's the truth." 

Darcy took a second to process that. "Really?" She believed it, yet something about Natasha's face made it difficult to be angry. Natasha looked like she knew how Darcy felt. 

"Stop understanding me," Darcy said, trying to be angry anyway. "I'm totally pissed with you." Her sip was a lot less elegant and a thread of beer made its way down her chin onto her t-shirt. She dashed it away with a touch of irritation. 

Natasha could have grinned but didn't. "In our current circumstances the risk to you was higher than I could accept. You had to leave and I took the option most likely to succeed. It's a bad habit. It would have been better to have talked to you instead." 

"Damn straight it would have been," but Darcy was disarmed. Like, who ever admitted they were wrong this calmly? The calmness made her think calmly too. "But...if it's too dangerous for me, isn't it too dangerous for everyone else in the Tower?" 

Natasha shrugged as her fingers explored the edge of the label on her bottle. "Your risk is higher than that of the other civilians." She paused. "But I admit, I am willing to accept a level of risk for them that I would not for you." A wry smile twisted her mouth. "I'm compromised." 

Darcy considered her. "Is that code for friends?" Natasha's shrug looked more like a yes than a no. "Cos friends shouldn't do that." 

Natasha's smile was still there but her eyes were serious. "So I've learned. It's not a mistake I'll make again." 

Darcy waved her hands in the air. "Like, what's the point in arguing with you? You already agree with me." 

Natasha half shrugged again. "You know what keeps you alive in the field long-term?" Darcy's raised eyebrows showed that she didn't. "Knowing what you are feeling. If you know, you can adjust for it, try to allow for your biases. You learn what mistakes feelings can lead you into." 

Darcy put her head to one side. She knew _she_ got led astray by emotions, but never thought Natasha might. "Isn't it easier not to have feelings?" Sometimes, in the night when she couldn't sleep, Darcy thought it would. 

Natasha paused. "No," she said. "It isn't." There was nothing for Darcy to pick up on, no tell or tone she could point to, yet Darcy felt there was something behind those words. Something dark. Something she probably didn't really want to know about. While she was thinking what to say, Nat's neutral expression thawed into a smile. 

"But, as a friend, could you do me a favour?" 

"Sure," Darcy said without thinking. "With what?" she added a little too quickly and Nat's smile grew wider. 

"Don't tell the others I messed up. I have a reputation to maintain." 

Darcy blinked, then grinned back. "Sure thing, girlfriend," and the bottled clinked in a toast over the table. 

After that Clint caught up with them, and they visited a few more bars, and then Nat dragged them all to a high end club. Natasha walked to to the top of the queue as if she owned the place, whispered a few words to the bouncer in something that wasn't any language Darcy knew and they were in. There was people watching and laughing, and attempts at swing-dancing on the dance floor that somehow didn't get them kicked out.

When she got back to Nat's she was on a high, the buzz fading to a comfortable sleepy happiness. It was as she brushed her teeth and put on pjs that the conviction grew that there was something she needed to do. 

Nat didn't ask any questions as Darcy left the apartment and headed for the elevator. She pressed the right button automatically, sagging against the wall until the door opened onto a familiar hallway. She walked along it carefully not thinking, past her old door (she'd been back, of course, packing up her clothes, but she still hadn't slept there), and to her destination. She knocked before she could change her mind. 

Jane answered quickly, too quickly. She looked thinner. Working too hard. 

"I just wanted to say goodbye," Darcy said, before the door could close or she lost her nerve. "Cos I'm going," because Jane should know but hey, who knew. 

Jane's face crumpled up a little, before she clearly got a grip in herself. "I'm sorry you feel you have to go. It's my fault." 

"No, I'm going cos of me," and for the first time Darcy really felt it was true. "I need it. And when I get back, maybe...," and it was true so why not say it, "like, I hope things can be different. With us." 

"I hope so too," Jane said, very softly. She paused. "Do you want to come in or..." 

"No, I gotta go," Darcy said. "Early flight back home. I just wanted to tell you." 

Jane nodded and started to close the door. But she stayed watching until Darcy was in the elevator again, before finally closing it. 

* * *

Steve hit the gym after seeing Darcy off at the airport. Clint was hanging out there, literally. 

"Cap, got a minute?" 

"Sure." 

Clint crossed his arms, but stayed hanging upside down like a bat. Steve felt his lips twitch. 

"You going to spar with our guest again? Think he's getting bored." Steve felt the twitch stiffen on his lips and die. 

"No," Steve said. 

Clint swung a little. "Why?" he asked. "Would do you good too." 

"I wanted to give him a chance," and the answer came so readily Clint knew Steve had thought this through. "But it looks to me like he's throwing it back in our faces. It's not just Darcy. He's deliberately putting all our backs up. There's no sign he's ever going to co-operate with us." 

"He co-operates with me," said Clint. 

Steve paused. "You're determined to see this though, huh? Do you trust him?" 

"Wouldn't go that far." 

"But you'll keep training him even if it's training him to fight against us in the future?" 

Clint swung again. "Yup," he said. "People took a chance on me. Paying it forward." 

Steve sighed, and moved his bag from one shoulder to another. "If he starts co-operating with the rest of us, I'll think about it." 

Clint nodded, then grabbed the bar and pulled himself up to stand precariously on the bar. "All I wanted to know. Thanks Cap." 

* * *

"Shoot!" 

The archer's latest whim was for Loki to hurl himself into training, hitting and pummelling the huge bags of sand standing like columns in the room. Then on the command, Loki was to sprint the width of the floor to shoot at a target. The archer had not told Loki where he had obtained a bow strong enough to withstand Loki's draw, and Loki had not chosen to ask. 

Loki took a moment to gather himself and slow his breathing, aimed and let the arrow fly. It pierced the target, just a hair off the centre. "Better! Sprint!" 

This was not precisely exciting, but it was absorbing. It worked off all Loki's pent-up energy. It allowed him to stop thinking...about how he had been treated... 

"Pick it up! You're not concentrating!" Loki gritted his teeth and pounded the bag, the thoughts directed straight out of his body through his fists. 

In the showers afterwards Loki felt almost purified. His body was spent, his frustrations gone, only his mind needed exercise. 

Before the mid-day meal, Loki studied, devouring books, watching video on the small screen in his quarters. Such material as he was given was carefully vetted, he assumed, but it was pointless to wonder what was being kept from him. Instead he pursued what interested him, learning as much as he could about this strange world (a world he was shut away from, a world whose breezes he could not feel upon his face, whose sun he did not see...) 

In the afternoon, he returned to the gym. There he trained Asgard-fashion, using the techniques honed over centuries, looping and twirling in intricate patterns, first with a spear, then with knives. The motions were second-nature, his mind and body working as one. Sometimes Clint was there, but silent, an observer only. Loki accepted his presence. 

Clint was the only mortal he saw. True to her word, Jane had not returned. Neither Tony nor Natasha made an appearance. Steve was no longer there when he trained. If not for Clint, solid and businesslike in the gym each day, Loki would have been seen by no-one. 

It was no matter. He needed nobody. He was in control. 

The last meal of the day was delivered like the other two: a door sliding noiselessly to reveal plates and containers of food. When Loki asked the disembodied voice for more food or different food, he got it - efficiently, noiselessly, impersonally. 

He stacked the dishes back into the alcove, washed his hands and face, then sat cross-legged on the floor and concentrated. Magic flowed behind his closed eyes. 

When he had first come here, he would send his mind to points in the building that he knew. Over time he had discovered that he could move that point of view. Slowly, to be sure, but it meant exploration was possible while his body remained in the room motionless. Achingly slowly, his mind's eye view moved from the reception area of Stark Tower into the street outside. Like a ghost, he moved through the crowds of people. It was difficult, but where he could send his sight to, there he could travel. Loki always made contingency plans. And the more he practised this new skill, the more proficient he was becoming. 

When he returned to himself he was exhausted. It was strange to be among swarming crowds after a day spent almost entirely alone. But Loki was ancient; he could wait for Stark and the rest to change their minds. It was nothing to the isolation he had known, falling between worlds...but there was no purpose to thinking of that. 

He washed, he threw himself onto the bed, he slept. The next day was almost precisely the same, and the next, and the next. 

* * *

Darcy loved her new job. L. O. V. E. D it. 

It was freaky at first, sure. Despite major pep-talks from her mom, and Steve over Skype, she was still terrified on the first day. Strategic analysis, long-term planning...she had no idea what she was supposed to do. But it basically consisted of keeping Tony on track, listening to people talk and thinking about what they said. That she could do. 

Telling Pepper and Tony _what_ she thought was harder. Like, telling the CEO of Forbes' Best Company to Work For and the guy Bill Gates called "a true genius" what _she_ thought about _their_ company? No pressure, dude. 

But she _did_ have something to bring to the table. Partially because she was younger. She could talk to the low-downs. In Palo Alto, Tony had had to drag her away from an argument about coding that started with engineer disdain and ended with grudging respect. But mainly, Darcy suspected, she saw and heard a lot because she was overlooked. People didn't even bother to pretend in front of her. 

Like, that part wasn't great for the ego but, her inner Natasha said, so very useful. 

And hey, she didn't care. She was meeting people her own age, interested in the same things she was. She was getting invites to go for coffee and lunch and drinks. She was in danger of developing a social life with people who didn't fight aliens for a living. 

Not a very stable social life, sure, cos each week was a new SI site. And she didn't fly back to NY as much as she had thought she would, and they were on missions a lot so she missed Steve and Clint and Nat. 

But still, it was what she needed right now. New places, new perspectives. Like Nat said, a life.

* * *

Natasha walked down the corridor towards the gym where Loki trained, her characteristic walk smooth and silent, eyes alert. When she pushed the door open, only Clint was there. Clint's eyebrows went up, and the corner of her mouth went up to match. "Surprised?" 

Clint grinned. "Sure. Wasn't expecting you here or back so soon."

She tossed her head, red hair tumbling away from her neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Always," Clint said. "Have I mentioned you look beautiful?"

Natasha's smile widened. "Not often enough." She crossed the room and looked into Clint's eyes, head tilted. "We need to talk." 

Clint crossed his arms and leaned against a sandbag. "Shoot." 

Natasha touched his arm, a gentle reassuring touch. "We need you back in the field. When will you be finished wasting your time with this?" Her eyes flicked over the room disparagingly.

"You think its a waste of time?" Clint put up a hand to touch her cheek and she leaned into it. 

"Don't you? He's a lost cause." 

"You think?" said Clint. His hand moved, the backs of his fingers stroking up her face. When he reached her hairline, they straightened, his fingers sliding into silky red hair. "You want to give up so soon?" He was drawing her closer and she was perfectly aware of it. Her smile widened, just a little, and her eyes flickered for a moment towards his mouth as Clint leaned forward, tilting his head. 

Their lips were a hairbreadth apart when he paused. "You're really invested in this, huh Loki?"

He had been expecting a blow and he got it, a short sharp shove to the shoulder. He went with it, keeping his fingers straight and allowing the hair to flow between them as smoothly as the strands changed from red to black. He turned the backwards motion into a twist, staying upright and on his feet. When he stopped moving, he was facing Loki who was standing elegantly motionless as if he had never moved. The green eyes met his. If anything the smile on Loki's face was even wider. 

There was silence for a moment, then Loki answered the question. "Always."

Clint was leaning back against the sandbag. "So, cards on the table. What's this about?" 

Loki's smile didn't waver. "Perhaps I wanted to see what would happen." 

Clint shrugged. "Perhaps." He paused. "You were looking for information. You know it, I know it. So just ask."

Loki paused. "I have skills that could be useful to you. I am not allowing my emotions to affect me. Yet you keep me here where I am of no use. For how much longer?" 

Clint shifted position against the sandbag. "Here's the thing. You're not telling us everything. You're not helping us. You're not co-operating." Clint was watching closely, but Loki's face didn't change. "We've got no reason to trust you. And I'm still the only one who'll work with you." 

Loki nodded matter-of-factly. Clint waited. The silence stretched. 

Clint would give dollars to donuts that there was more Loki wanted to know, but the guy clearly wasn't planning on tipping his hand. Still, he waited until Loki finally broke the silence. 

"Shall we train today?" The question was just slightly tinged with sarcasm.

"Sure," said Clint, and straightened up. 

* * *

It was dark when Natasha returned silently to her apartment twelve hours later. The mission had been a success, SHIELD was analysing the data, but every muscle in her body ached. Once inside she stripped, leaving a trail of clothes as she headed for the shower. She stood under the scalding torrent until her head was clear and the edge was off the ache. 

Clothes in the hamper, she was padding towards bed when JARVIS coughed a little unnecessary cough. "Mr Barton would like to speak with you." 

Natasha's eyebrows raised a fraction. "Sure. Tell him to come over." 

"He's standing outside." Natasha's eyebrows raised a fraction more. 

Clint _was _outside, visible in the viewfinder leaning against the wall across from her apartment. He looked like he was prepared to stand there for ever but by the time Natasha opened the door he was standing right outside, ready to come in.__

 _ _"Have I mentioned you look beautiful?" he said, without preamble.__

 _ _

"Lovely as the ice on Svalbard," said Natasha. She paused. "What's happened?" 

"Interesting things," said Clint. He considered this and nodded. "Yes. Interesting things. All clear, JARVIS?" 

"He is meditating in his room, Mr Barton." 

"Or so we hope," Clint said. "Break out the vodka, Tash. This might take a while."

__


	10. Co-operation

Fury leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "So, the asset shape-shifted to look exactly like you, approached Agent Barton and attempted to obtain information from him." 

"In a nutshell," Natasha said, sitting neatly on the other side of the desk. 

"This isn't anything new," Fury said. "He's displayed this ability before." 

Natasha tilted her head to one side. "The asset adopted the appearance and voice of another agent previously, but it was entirely superficial. His mannerisms and way of speaking all remained his own. This time, he attempted a full impersonation. It was effective - he clearly made good use of the time I spent questioning him. Agent Barton's assessment is that he's either done this work before or has a very high aptitude for it." 

Fury nodded thoughtfully. "So Agent Barton believes in a different context and unprepared, he might have been fooled?" Natasha's shrug looked like a yes. "Why didn't our other lines of warning work?" 

"The asset limited JARVIS' speaker volume and interfered with Barton's wrist display. JARVIS arranged for countermeasures but Barton defused the situation before it became necessary to use them." Natasha sighed. "The asset is proving adept at finding loopholes in the contract. These particular ones are being closed." 

Fury's eye narrowed. "So...why did the asset do this? And why now?" 

"I suspect he's showcasing his potential to us, trying to emphasise his value without giving away too much of his abilities." Natasha paused. "The timing would not be surprising, _if_ he's aware of what's going on." 

Fury's eye rolled upwards and fixed on Natasha again. "You think that's a possibility?" At Natasha's nod his mouth tightened and he leaned forward on the desk. "Find out what you can and keep me appraised." 

"Yes sir," said Natasha, but she didn't move. 

Fury looked at her impassively for a full minute, then spoke. "Hell no." 

"Training the agents with the correct characteristics would take months," Natasha said. "This asset could be anyone. Anything. 

"Did I stutter?" Fury asked, his voice calm and level. Browbeating Natasha was a waste of energy. "I said hell no. And when I say hell no, I mean hell mother-fucking _no_." 

"I'm not suggesting putting him in the field..." 

"I'm god-damn _thrilled_ to hear it." 

"...I'm suggesting we set up the cover now, so we can be ready to move when things change." 

"Things are not going to change that much," said Fury heavily. "Has he shown any movement?" 

"He wants to resume collaboration with Dr Foster." 

"Wonderful," said Fury with heavy sarcasm. "Assess him first. Do the paperwork if you have to. Just do not let him out of his box." 

"Until...?" prompted Natasha, with a face so neutral Fury was instantly suspicious. He glared at her and barked an answer. 

"Until he saves the god-damn world! That specific enough?" 

Which just goes to show, as Darcy's Oma always said, you should be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. 

* * *

Loki knew that the Tower above him was emptying. Slowly but surely there were fewer people in the lobby in the evenings, more labs dark during the day. The most obvious answer was, since Loki was tied to the Tower, that the exodus was because of him. He was seen as a threat, not as a potential ally. 

His attempt to pique the interest of Clint and his confederates had apparently failed. The request to resume work with Jane Foster the day after his _exhibition_ had received no answer either. He could only assume this was a ploy. 

Nonetheless, it was a relief to see Natasha waiting for him with Clint some seven days later. She was not even in official uniform - instead, like Clint, she was casual in jeans and t-shirt, carrying a battered leather satchel. "So, I heard you can imitate me," and Natasha's crooked smile reflected the amusement in her voice. 

He mirrored her smile, then shifted his shape to match hers, down to the clothes. Clint looked as if he was trying to hide his interest, but failing. Natasha still looked amused, without a flicker of surprise in her expression. She walked around him slowly, apparently studying him in detail. Loki turned his head to his right to follow her return to her starting point. "So," he said, in her voice, with attention paid to the half-smile and the tone, "are you satisfied?" He was rewarded by a slight eyebrow lift of appreciation. 

They spent the next hour testing Loki's ability. She showed a scar marring her skin and it duplicated on his. Questions came thick and fast, some of which he could not or would not answer: If he replicated garments, what happened when they were removed? (Natasha, examining his version of what she wore, suggested he needed to make a study of Midgardian clothing.) Could he look like anyone? Could he still look like a cat? Like any animal? What happened to the missing mass? Could he look like the man in this picture? Could he look like a male version of Natasha? (That was fascinating, with both Clint and Natasha studying with a critical eye and suggesting small adjustments. It was strangely gratifying and yet confusing. No one in Asgard, not Odin nor Frigga, Thor nor the Warriors Three, had ever expressed such interest.) 

"Is there any face you use often?" and Loki shot a glance at Natasha, wondering what she knew, what that question was pointing to...but to all appearances it was a straightforward enquiry. He quickly answered to avoid a gap that might provoke more questions. 

"No. Or to be precise, not recently. I used this face often, some time ago," and his features flowed into a face and body that he had not worn for ten centuries. 

Briefly there was silence as the spies appraised him. Then Clint nodded and Natasha smiled her crooked smile and Loki let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Why had he? Their opinion did not matter. "You look young," Clint was saying. "Almost innocent", and there was a slight hint of amused surprise. Loki put his head sideways, deliberately adopting a naive pose, and Clint definitely suppressed a smile. 

"Are you comfortable in that form?" Natasha asked. And when Loki nodded, wondering where the question was leading, "May I take a photo?" Producing a camera from her bag, she took a number of shots then asked, "Can you look like a child?" and took more, requesting various ages. Loki refused to ask why, but that was not because he was not curious. 

"One last thing," she said when the photoshoot was over. She took three sheets of paper from her bag. "Sign these," she said. "An new version of the clause against impersonating living humans. Sign there and initial there and there on all three." She watched as Loki read the clauses over, lingering over the new sections which forbade such impersonation in water-tight terms, and intriguingly specifying under what conditions impersonation might be permitted... 

"You didn't have to wait until this happened to show us your skills," Natasha remarked. Absorbed as he was, it took a moment for Loki to see the danger. 

"Until what happened?" He was good at looking guileless in any form, and this face always looked above suspicion. 

Natasha shrugged. "Until the isolation got too much." Loki let it go. Safer to let her think what she would than to engage in debate. 

She left one page with him and packed the others away. "Remember, no more impersonation." She looked his new form up and down for the last time. "But feel free to use this one, if you get bored." And that, Loki thought, as she left and training with Clint started, was a very interesting closing statement indeed. 

* * *

The last thing Jane had expected was the message from JARVIS, conveying Loki's readiness to work with her again. She wasn't particularly convinced that talking to him this time would be any more productive than it had been last time. But she was curious, so she said yes. 

"I guess anything he tells you is better than nothing," Bruce said when they discussed it in the lab. And after a pause, "Do you want me to come?" 

Jane wasn't always the best at picking up other people's feelings but even she could see the reluctance deep in Bruce's eyes. She said no, but she would have said no anyway. If Loki hadn't killed her last time, he wasn't going to do it now. 

Bruce had also told her what Tony had got from Loki. According to Bruce, Tony asked questions about what the force shield in Asgard did, not how the Asgardians created it. "Perhaps it's his background in engineering. Not that he doesn't explore the implementation when it matters - his grasp of technical details is amazing. But with Loki, as far as I know, it was all about functionality." 

Bruce didn't ask why Jane didn't just contact Tony herself. She appreciated that. She still didn't know how a talk with Darcy would go. 

She didn't know how a talk with Loki would go either. The answer was, surprisingly well. Gone was the cold sarcastic alien of her previous visit: he even wore jeans and a t-shirt. He was much more like the respectful younger brother she had met in SHIELD, only more charming. Jane both felt that charm, and remembered the nickname for Loki that Thor had told her: Silvertongue. She felt herself both beguiled and wary as she watched him pour her mineral water from the bottle at the centre of the table. 

Water served, Loki sat down, smiled and half bowed in his seat."Before we start, I must apologise for my behaviour at our previous meeting. My wish to avoid discussing personal matters was the cause of my abruptness, but no excuse for it." 

"Okay," said Jane carefully. "Is that what you want to talk about now?" 

"No," and Jane wasn't sure if that was said a little forcefully or whether it was just her imagination. "I thought we might resume discussion of your projects." 

Much as Jane was tempted just to jump in, she also wanted to know it would be worth her while. And she was still curious..."Why do you want to do that now?" 

Loki's eyebrows raised. "Are you no longer interested in my cooperation?" 

"I'm interested in whether I'm going to get it," Jane said bluntly. 

Loki smiled widely, to all appearances amused. "But of course. I confess, our impasse in previous meetings was also my fault." He spread his hands gracefully out over the table, palms twisting upwards. "But I do now wish to co-operate. I also wish you to understand exactly what I may discuss, and what I may not." 

"That would certainly help," Jane said, interested despite herself. Loki flashed his winning smile again, his hands still signalling his openness over the table, then grew serious as he drew them together. 

"I do not know if I should tell you this, but I have not been told I may not, and I need you to understand. When Asgard withdrew from this planet we promised not to interfere with its development. I, with them, am still bound by this promise. I may describe or comment, but I may not tell you how to build our technology." 

Jane leaned across the table. "Who did Asgard make this promise to?" 

The corner of Loki's mouth twitched. "Telling you that would be coming too close to breaking the oath." 

Jane studied him. "I've already created a bridge, like your Rainbow bridge. Why can't you tell me what I'm doing wrong, how to make it less vulnerable?" 

"Ah!" said Loki. His hands were already moving when he started to speak. "You are mistaken, Dr Foster." 

"Jane." 

"Very well. You have not created a version of the Rainbow Bridge, Jane. You have created something completely different." 

Jane looked sceptical. Loki acknowledged the look with a nod. "It's true. There are three ways that we, you and I, know of for creating paths between worlds." 

"The Rainbow Bridge, the Tesseract and my TDD." Jane's eyes narrowed as she considered the implications. 

Loki went on. " The differences in what we see when they are in operation - these are not superficial, but reflect real differences in their working." 

Jane focused back on Loki. "So you may not be able to help me at all." 

Loki spread his hands again. "I may not, I admit it. But I am willing to try." 

Jane blew out a breath. "Okay then, let's do it." She stood up and put out a hand over the table. Loki paused a moment, rose and took it. 

* * *

"Tell me again why I agreed to this?" Darcy huffed as she looked through the case for dressings. 

"Because you're so good at talking to people and looking after people," Tony said cajolingly. "Look how you're looking after me now." His brown eyes were wide and appealing over the narrow plaster on his cheek bone. "What would I do without you, princess? 

"I don't know," and Darcy looked down, spotted the dressing she was looking for and looked up, waving it in one hand. "Hire a nurse?" 

"Or a psychologist?" suggested Pepper, from the screen on Tony's desk, right next to the first aid box. They were in Chicago now; Pepper was back in LA for a board meeting. 

Darcy walked over to Tony, sitting on the arm of the buttoned leather armchair, wearing only the leggings he wore under the Iron Man armor. She slapped the dressing on Tony's grazed shoulder, ignoring his wince. "I'm a hero," he pointed out. 

"Saving the people in the car makes you a hero," Pepper retorted. "Trying to catch the building as it collapsed, not so much." 

"I did _not_ try to catch the building," Tony said. 

"Then what _were_ you doing?" Darcy asked. 

Tony's eyes turned up appealingly again. "Supporting it?" Behind Darcy, Pepper's laugh rang out. 

"Darcy," she said, "I think you're due a two-month bonus soon. Would you like a two-month bonus? How much do I need to bribe you?" 

Hey, Darcy wasn't saying no. And at least it wasn't as stupid an injury as when Tony's tie went on fire in Houston. She'd thought the engineering lead was going to have a heart attack. Whatever you might say about Tony on tour, it certainly wasn't dull. 

* * *

In all honesty, Loki had not expected to gain any insight from talking to Jane Foster. It was merely a way of signalling his compliance, much like studying the box of clothes that was sent to his room, or practising shifting into the shape of the red-haired boy until it became second nature. He even started dressing like a Midgardian. It was a trivial way to suggest alliance. 

And yet, entirely accidentally, it did. Things that Loki took entirely for granted seemed strange to Jane. When she truly understood how the role of guardian of Asgard filled Heimdall's life completely, she seemed to find this disturbing. For her, the power he had (second only to Odin himself!) was not sufficient recompense. She professed herself glad that such a solution would not readily work with her machine, which led to another conversation. 

Loki had called her machine "simple" and noticed she did not seem pleased with the term. "Simple does not mean inferior," he hastened to add (nothing would be gained by deflating Jane's ego). "Your method taps into the structure of the universe itself. It is elegant. Ours is," and he smiled, "rather more baroque." 

"So your magic _doesn't_ tap into the structure of the universe?" and immediately, before he had to say it, "No, I know, you can't say. But I guess that's why you don't seem to have the technology we do." 

"Asgard is highly advanced, technologically," said Loki, slightly surprised that the comment irritated him. Jane hastened to explain. 

"Of course, but it's different. From what Thor has said, you don't have recorded music, or video, or television. Thor thought...you never had?" Loki nodded and Jane went on. "I guess that's for that reason, just that the approach of our two sciences is different." 

What had stayed with Loki from that conversation was the fact Jane saw the lack of certain technologies in Asgard as a fact in need of explaining. And of course, now he thought of it, it did. The books Natasha had sent with the clothes had covered Midgardian culture, and Loki learned that here many styles of art existed. In Asgard there was only one and it was highly stylised. The only detailed and accurate images were those used in war, captured by magic users and shown only in High Council. Entertainment was provided by story-telling. Even what the Midgardians called "drama" or "theatre" was rare and formalised. Magic was used for toys and tools, but in daily life it was much less visible than technology here, at least in this part of Midgard. 

Loki had reflected on this afterwards, and arrived slowly at a hypothesis, one that he would test in the next few days. "Test", "hypothesis": Jane was clearly affecting his thinking. He was amused at the thought, and Jane walked in to see him smiling. 

"Got good news?" Of course, her first thought would always fly to Thor. 

"I'm afraid not." He paused. "I will tell you if I hear anything." 

Jane nodded, knowing that he meant _about Thor_ , then opened her folder and took out a sheaf of papers. "I think we need a break from the Einstein-Rosen Bridge so I thought I'd ask you about this today. I just got them, from Erik Selvig." She caught Loki's enquiring look. "He's not here anymore." She pushed a paper over the table. "Does an _Alignment_ , something like a conjunction of the Realms, make any sense to you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promise made by Asgard is vaguely based on the comics, where Asgard promised the Celestials not to interfere with humanity about a thousand years ago.
> 
> Possibly because of the picture of him with the cat I put on Tumblr ages ago, I see Loki's red-haired disguise as looking like an 18yo Ed Sheeran (I mean, this! http://catswholooklikeedsheeran.tumblr.com/post/75998549806 )
> 
> Loki is being a little tricky speaking to Jane - there are three ways that *we* (Loki and Jane) know of to travel between worlds, *Loki* on his own knows a few more! 
> 
> And yes, Dark World is coming...this is the type of thing Erik is writing on whiteboards instead of doing what he's supposed to be doing: https://www.reddit.com/r/mcudp/comments/240up8/erik_selvigs_chalkboard_explained_thor_the_dark/


	11. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warning - contains references to two episodes of Agents of Shield series 1 (so do the end notes).

The group of people who had once been Strike Team Delta lounged comfortably around Clint's living space, exchanging idle chit-chat many would have paid a fortune to hear.

"We could use him," said Coulson thoughtfully to the ceiling. He was leaning back in his chair, feet flat on the floor and arms on both armrests. Chasing rumours of 0-8-4s was more tiring than it had any right to be, and since Peru they had nothing to show for it. What Clint had just shared suggested the asset might be the advantage they needed. 

"You're working too hard, old man," Clint said from the couch where he was sprawled. Coulson moved his head just enough to cock a sarcastic eyebrow at him. 

"Fury's wary of using the asset," Natasha said, returning to topic. She sat, crosslegged and alert, on the seat across from Coulson's. 

"You can hardly blame him," Coulson pointed out. 

Natasha shrugged, a one-shouldered shrug that suggested the risk was worth it. Coulson's head lifted a little and his eyes went to the burn dressings visible under the sleeves of her shirt. Natasha noticed where Coulson was looking and the corner of her mouth rose a little. 

"How was Hong Kong?" asked Coulson, as if he didn't know the answer. 

"Hot," and Natasha's smirk widened. 

"Agent Ward's been sniffing around your little team," said Clint, sprawled across the couch. He rolled his eyes at the blank looks thrown at him. "Hey, I'm restricted to the Tower, not dead." 

"Damn office politics," and Coulson threw his eyes up to the ceiling. "He was part of the shortlist. Guess he wants to know what he missed out on." 

"Nothing much, he thinks," and Natasha smirked again as Coulson's eyes shot to her corner. "He sounded me out too. I said nothing, but he seems to have arrived at his own conclusions." 

"I wonder how that could have happened," said Coulson dryly. "How is the paperwork for the asset going?" 

"It's been circulated," Natasha said. 

"What does he _do_ all day?" Coulson asked. He couldn't imagine the Asgardians he had met staying in a suite of rooms for months at a time. Not without it resulting in serious structural damage. 

"Train," said Clint. "Study. Meditate. Eat. Sleep." He shrugged. "He's not much like Thor." 

"And in the last week, obsess over Shibuya Station," Natasha added. She exchanged looks with Clint. 

Coulson shifted in his seat, straightening up. "Shibuya Station? What's he looking at? Layout, blueprints...?" 

"The intersection in front of the Hachiko Exit," Clint said. "The scramble crossing all the tourists go to see and take pictures of. The asset seems to want to look at every single one of them." 

Coulson's brow creased. "Why?" 

Natasha and Clint exchanged looks again. Natasha answered. "We have no idea." 

* * *

He had chosen the intersection at Shibuya Station almost at random, searching the book of photography for places with advanced technology and crowds of people. For a week he had forsaken his other studies for the sake of the _experiment_ , requesting and getting huge numbers of photos and videos of the place from many different angles. 

Slowly and painstakingly, he built up a picture in his mind: which building where, the sense of scale, the position of the lights, the noise. 

It was his mother who had taught him to See at a distance, to throw his vision to places that he knew. A mistake, perhaps. It would never have occurred to her what he might be drawn to do with that gift. What was the Midgardian saying, _eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves_? 

It was possible to See a place one did not know, but it took power and time. His mother had told him she had seen him in the pit of the universe, after his fall. Yet despite all her power and her search having a focus, it had taken her a year even to glimpse him there. He still could scarcely believe she had expended so much effort to find him. 

But what if one already had the place clearly in one's mind? He had Seen the Tesseract on Midgard from the floor of the universe, even having enough presence to influence Erik Selvik. Yet it had been held in a place he had never seen. Instead the Other (just one of His many servants, but by far the most devoted) had pushed an image of the place like a blade into Loki's mind. Loki would have repaid him with a blade into the heart gladly, but alas, he had never had the opportunity. 

But that ordeal showed what might be possible. Slowly and patiently Loki worked on his interior image of a tiny piece of Tokyo, testing and checking it against a myriad of photographs and videos. Today, he had rested as much as possible and refrained from his magic. After the evening meal he sat crosslegged on the bland beige carpet and built up the image in his mind. When it was clear he reached out with his mind... 

...and mentally, he was there. The red lights vanished and the green lights went on and hordes of people swirled around him, unconsciously avoiding the spot where Loki would stand, if he stepped through. He turned to see their faces, not imagined but real and living, men and women and children in uniform. Loki looked from the crowds up at grey glass and stone, punctuated by bright signs in primary colours washed by the pale morning light. A thin sound of strings played through the bustle of people. 

It was clear and clean, as clear and clean as the understanding Loki had now gained. Asgard was not as it was by chance. Asgard was as it was to keep power in the hands of the king. When had they decided that images might give too much power to those with magic? Bor's time? Back in the early days of the first kings? 

He could step through now and vanish in the crowds. But he did not even wish to. There were so many _resources_ in the Tower, so many places to learn about, to reach out to and touch. For the first time since he had come to Midgard, Loki felt pure triumph. The joy of victory went through him, and he threw back his head and laughed. 

* * *

Darcy was working late. _Wow! Shock, horror!_ Tony was at a meeting so it was a perfect time to catch up with her paperwork. It wasn't hard, exactly, but Darcy appreciated head space, a stretch of quiet time without interruptions in the office that clearly had been a meeting room until they commandeered it. 

Darcy still hadn't worked out if Tony's huge solid wood desk was shipped from place to place, or if every SI branch had one in storage. The chewing gum she'd planted in Chicago was gone, but that didn't really prove anything. 

She got her headspace for half an hour before Joel stuck his head around the door. Joel was six foot of lean muscle, with floppy dark hair, dreamy blue eyes and a hipster beard that suited him. He was quiet and seemed to be in a world of his own until you got to know him. Then it quickly became clear that behind his seemingly vague manner was an alert mind. That, and his dry sense of humor, had been a pleasant surprise. 

Like, _really_ pleasant. 

_Damn,_ she liked Portland. 

"Hey Darcy, we're heading out. Want to come with?" 

Darcy was shaking her head. "Another half hour, 45 mins tops. Where are you going?" 

"Fire on the Mountain. Best wings in Portland." He raised an eyebrow, and leaned against the door jamb as if he was going to stay until she said yes. 

Darcy pouted. "I can't. Catch you in 45 minutes?" 

"I'll be there," and one of Joel's rare smiles flashed across his face. He retreated around the door, taking one last look at her before he left.

Amazing how quickly Darcy could get stuff done when she had the right incentive. Thirty minutes later her desk was cleared. Just had to check the rest of the office and she was free. FREE! 

All that basically meant was clearing Tony's desk. There was a floor-safe in all the temporary offices they used, but Tony somehow ever got around to using it. Instead, top secret SI files lay out on his desk for all to see. Or not, because Darcy had a _lick_ of sense, and didn't leave until she'd done it for him. 

This time there was only one file. The nagging must be getting through or something. It lay open with an A4 sized headshot laid neatly on top of the papers inside. Darcy couldn't help but notice the face in the instant it took to slide her hand under the file to close it. An oval face dusted with freckles and topped with messy red hair, with serious eyes, a straight nose and a nonplussed half smile. He looked rumpled and bemused, as if he couldn't quite work out why he was being photographed against a plain white background. One of SI's new, ridiculously young geniuses plucked from college Darcy supposed, right up to the second the file closed and two words printed in black magic marker became visible on the front. 

PROJECT SALEM 

The first thing that Darcy was aware of, after standing starting at _a freaking word_ for what felt like a eternity, was that it was Tony's writing. Not his characteristic scrawl but his equally characteristic "I'm writing this _really clearly_ so everyone gets it, okay?" emphatic print that he used on whiteboards at meetings when laying down the law. The second thing was that it was a SHIELD file, with STRATEGIC HOMELAND blah blah, and TOP SECRET and CLEARANCE LEVEL SEVEN OR ABOVE and all the other word salad SHIELD put on their folders. The third thing was the tiny post-it note with "FYI, Legal" dashed off on it. Darcy knew Natasha's handwriting too. 

She didn't think about doing it, she just flipped the file open again. There were probably like four million federal laws she was breaking right now, but she'd already seen the picture, so. 

She looked it again, examining every detail until it was engraved on her retina, appearing as a negative on the white paper beside it when she glanced away. When she looked back the picture returned her stare enigmatically, still bemused, still unsure about what it was doing there. It didn't look like...it wasn't anyone Darcy knew. She was certain. Even the eyes...far as she could tell, they were grey. There was a name at the bottom. Daniel Connor. 

She could have passed this guy in the street and she'd never have looked at him twice. 

She flicked the file closed again. PROJECT SALEM. It couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? 

Suddenly she just felt pissed off. What was she doing, stressing over a file? Why couldn't Tony put his own stuff away? 

Why did he leave this one out? He never left out SHIELD files before. Why did he write on it? 

_Who cared? Who the hell cared?_ Darcy pulled herself together, picked up the file, crossed to the floor safe and dropped it in. It took her longer than it should have to get the door locked again. She refused to admit her hands were trembling. 

"No," she told the room with emphasis. "No. I'm going now, and I'm going to eat wings and talk about real life stuff and _not think about this at all_. Got that?" 

The room made no objections. It sat in silence as she flicked off the light and shut the door behind her. 

Tony didn't remark on the file being in the safe the next day, didn't say anything about files at all until they were in Boston and Darcy was telling him she wasn't going to the NY Halloween party. She was going to Portland instead. Yes, she'd made friends there. No, no-one Tony knew. 

Darcy had totally expected the teasing. She hadn't expected the suggestion, after a few rounds of Tony trying to cajole the name out of her, that "I've got contacts - I'll get the lowdown on him and leave it on my desk for you to find." And although he laughed, and moved straight onto suggesting she could share the "lovejet" to Portland with Coulson (which was a whole new level of secret SHIELD information Darcy would rather not know), Darcy couldn't help but wonder. Had he looked hard at her when he'd said about a file on his desk or was it her imagination? 

Whatever...Tony seemed satisfied. Shame that Darcy wasn't. Too many questions, not enough answers. 

* * *

"I won't be here next week" 

Loki raised an eyebrow. Even for Jane, this was an abrupt start to their meeting. Jane recognised the message the eyebrow conveyed and half shrugged. "This Convergence thing. Are you sure it's happening soon?"

"Tolerably sure," Loki drawled. "I believe this to be the 1st of November, in which case it should be next Friday if my calculations are correct." He paused. "Did you enjoy yesterday's festivities?" he added with a hint of malice. He had Seen the partygoers arrive in the Tower's reception, in passing. Naturally, he was not welcome in person, and he did not care to watch. 

"I didn't go," said Jane tersely. She looked down at her notes and muttered to herself. "Could tie into the _mundus cerialis_...Ceres was an ancient goddess...but three thousand years would be a stretch...oral tradition? I wish Darcy was here..." Jane came to herself with a start, suddenly realizing what she had said. She looked up and her eyes met Loki's. It was the first time either had mentioned Darcy's name since the meeting which had ended in Jane yelling and Loki threatening. They sat for a moment, Jane waiting to see how he would react. 

"Am I interrupting you?" Loki spoke with a touch of humor. The name had come as a shock, but he had no intention of revealing that. "Or do you plan to include me in the conversation at some point?" 

"Sure, why not?" said Jane with a wry smile. "Erik thinks it'll be later. He thinks it's more likely to be the Winter Solstice..." 

Loki raised an eyebrow again. "An event affecting all the Realms tied to Midgard's tilt towards its sun?" 

"Exactly!" said Jane, jabbing her paper with her pencil."It doesn't make sense. He's basing his theory on ancient monuments in Europe...Newgrange, Stonehenge...but we don't have enough information. This Roman evidence..." Loki shifted position to look intensely interested (a sure sign sarcasm was imminent), and Jane changed track. "Anyway...he hasn't replied to my recent emails or letters. I've contacted Oxford and they don't know where he is." Jane paused and sighed. "They're not happy with him. So I'm going to London, I'm going to find him and we're going to study this event together." 

"I look forward to the results of your labors," Loki said politely, his mental attention already switching to his own experiments. Of what possible consequence could Jane's plans be to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AoS references are to S1 E02 "0-8-4" (0-8-4 = object of unknown origin), and S1 E5 "Girl in the Flower Dress". Coulson's team and their mission are a little different - their focus is on powerful objects, and the main mission, known just to Coulson and May) is tracking down the Sceptre and whoever "liberated" it from the Hub. Natasha went on the mission in S1E5 instead of Coulson's team. 
> 
> The crossing at Shibuya Station: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedestrian_scramble#/media/File:1_shibuya_crossing_2012.jpg
> 
> Frigga seeing Loki with Thanos is a reference to "Thor: The Dark World Prelude" 
> 
> The picture Darcy saw looks something like this: http://www.ew.com/article/2012/09/24/ed-sheeran-2013-us-tour-video
> 
> Yes, Tony meant Darcy to see it.
> 
> For more on the _mundus cerialis_ see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ceres_(mythology)#The_mundus_of_Ceres


	12. London Calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SW: Thor: The Dark World
> 
>  
> 
> "London calling to the faraway towns  
> Now war is declared, and battle come down  
> London calling to the underworld  
> Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls"  
> \-- The Clash.
> 
>  

For an instant crimson light flooded the taxi cab. Jane flinched and shrank back into her seat. Her reaction was extreme enough for the driver to notice. 

"Chill, " he said, with a quick glance over his shoulder. Jane, alone and belted in the huge space in the back, could only nod. "'s just fireworks at Cleveland Square. Guy Fawkes, innit." 

Jane knew. She knew London, she knew Guy Fawkes Night. She lived here, she'd visited last year with Thor ... Jane felt a lump in her throat at the utter difference between then and now. Then she had felt happy, loved, safe. Now she was terrified of everything, even herself. As the driver talked about the Gunpowder Plot (to calm her down, Jane strongly suspected) the words mixed with her thoughts into a nightmare of huge underground chambers and being chased through the dark and red liquid floating in the air as if it were alive... 

The driver still looked concerned as she got out at the Hilton Paddington. Jane pressed notes into his hand. Too many notes, really, but she was grateful that he'd stopped to pick her up on the dark road, that he hadn't seen the bodies of the muggers lying a few yards away... 

She scuttled to her room. She had stayed here last time with Thor, choosing it because the rooms were supposed to be bigger, built for American tourists to London in the 19th century. Now, it felt too big. She felt exposed, as if she was being watched. 

Jane sat on the bed and gave herself a good talking to. She was being paranoid. No-one was watching, no-one knew what had happened. She'd just gone exploring on her own and had a strange experience. Was it even all that strange? Was it any stranger than a man falling from the sky, or an alien device trashing a town? She just needed to make a few calls and the problem could be investigated, tested, solved. As Darcy would say, she just needed to SCIENCE. Jane closed the curtains, only starting a little when the night sky suddenly filled again with light: golden, pink and blood red. 

* * *

The mystery of the desk continued. Darcy was still entertained by Tony's reaction each time they went to a new place and found a new, pristine work-space waiting for them. Tony might say he wanted no fuss but as Pepper said, if he wanted no fuss he'd have to start visiting the branches more often. So before Tony arrived (Darcy's new friends told her) there was frantic deep-cleaning and redecorating, and hiring of plants and moving of smoking areas. And that was before the obsessive scheduling, so Tony got the absolute most out of his hours in the extra-pristine offices, labs and meetings rooms he was visiting. It was all a well-oiled precision machine. 

But, as Darcy knew, well-oiled precision machines tend to spectacularly fail when the unexpected happens. True in Jane's lab, true here. When Tony was suddenly called away for two days for non-specific reasons (which were totally to do with SHIELD, Darcy could tell), all hell broke lose. So here she was, working late, making phone calls and trying to help put the well-oiled machine back on track. Not actually her job, but she had no plans and Bethany was tearing her hair out and she liked Bethany...so all hands on deck, right? 

Her cell phone rang and Darcy picked it up absent-mindedly, swiping the answer button on the screen and jamming the phone against her ear with one shoulder while going back to running her pencil down her to-do list. "Hi, Darcy Lewis speaking." 

"I'm sorry Darcy. I didn't know who else to call." 

Darcy almost dropped the phone when the voice spoke at the other end, fumbling to catch it and losing the pencil and pad in the process. She caught the phone in one hand and leaned forward on the desk, all her focus now on the voice at the other end. "Jane?" 

Darcy could hear something like a suppressed gulp, and then Jane spoke again. "I'm sorry about everything that happened. I never wanted things to be like this. And I never wanted the first time I rang you to be asking for help." 

Darcy's mind whirred. It was Jane but somehow didn't sound like her. It was only when Jane gulped again that Darcy got it. Jane was scared. 

Not that Jane had never been afraid before. Like, given all that had happened, that would be nuts. It was just that up to now, Jane was too curious or determined any time she was afraid to really feel it. That was Darcy's job - to feel afraid and try to make sure Jane didn't get herself killed. But now, Jane was panicking. Jane needed help. And when someone needed help, Darcy helped them, even if things weren't actually back to normal between them. 

"Don't worry about it," Darcy said now, elbows planted firmly on the desk, brow creased in concentration. "I got this. What do you need?" 

Darcy heard Jane breathe, as if she'd been waiting for the hang-up. "I don't know what to say..." 

"It's okay. How can I help?" 

"Can I speak to Tony? Do you know where he is?" 

Darcy grimaced. "Sorry, he's away." Jane's breathing changed again and Darcy thought _she's freaking out_. "He'll be back in a couple of days, I guess." 

"Are they all away?" Jane asked, urgency in her voice. "Steve, everyone?" 

Darcy got what she was getting at. She also got that Jane was being careful. Anyone could be listening. 

"Yes, they've got a thing. I don't think anyone can contact them...except the iPod thieves." 

"I can't talk to them." There was a silence in which Jane was clearly thinking. "What about Pepper?" 

"I can get her..." and Darcy started leaning towards the desk phone, before remember she couldn't. "Only not right now. She's flying to Singapore." Jane's groan sounded clearly over the line. "Look, what the hell happened? Where are you?" Darcy tried to smile and sound reassuring, but she was getting seriously worried now. 

"I'm in London," and there was another little gasp. "Remember I wanted to travel after New Mexico? Long distance?" 

To Asgard. How could Darcy forget? "Sure." 

"Well, I travelled. By mistake. But I didn't get to where I wanted to go. I went somewhere else." 

Darcy's eyes went wide. "For real?" What the heck did _by mistake_ mean? And where had Jane gone? "Isn't that good?" 

"I think," and Jane paused, then the words came in a rush, "I think I brought something back. Tell Pepper, when you can, tell Pepper I need the expert in the Tower. I'm in the Paddington Hilton now. Or if the others are back early, tell them. Don't tell the iPod thieves. Please." 

"Is that all I can do?" and Darcy paused. "I mean, do you feel safe?" 

Jane's laugh was hollow. "No, no I don't." 

Darcy was already tapping on the keyboard in front of her. "Then go to Tony's townhouse. A1 security, JARVIS can keep an eye on you. I'm sending the custodian over to collect you. He's...Jon Palmer. Ask for ID. Code word is burrito. Got that?" 

Jane was babbling. "Are you sure this is okay? I can stay here..." 

Darcy cut across her. "Go, pack. Honest, this is the best thing to do. I'll ring again when I have some news. Then get some sleep, okay?" 

"Okay," and Jane sounded sheepish across the line, all the way across the Atlantic. "Thank you, Darcy, really. Thank you." 

"You just look after yourself, okay?" 

Darcy sat and thought for ten minutes after she hung up. Bethany found her staring into space. "What's up kid?" she asked. "Look like you've seen a ghost." 

"I'm good," said Darcy snapping to. "Only I've gotta go." 

Bethany smiled. "You weren't even supposed to be here. Where you off to in such a rush?" 

"New York," said Darcy. Then maybe London, she thought. But New York first. 

Bethany took Darcy's sudden travel plans in her stride. It was the type of thing that happened when you worked closely with Tony Stark. "Want me to book the tickets?" was the only question she asked. 

Darcy jumped up, ready to hug her before she thought better of it. "You're a life saver!" 

"I'll take that as a yes," said Bethany, smiling. "Fully flexible, right?" She shooed Darcy to the door. "They'll be at the ticket desk. Now get moving!" 

Darcy didn't need telling twice. If she rushed, Darcy could pack, power-dress and be on the next flight to New York. There'd be time to think of a strategy on the way. 

* * *

The common room was dark, lit only by the city lights and the glow of the e-reader in the far corner of the room. The faint pale light outlined the reader's face and turned his hair into smouldering embers, glimmers of red against the blackness. 

The privilege of using the common room after 1am had been reinstated, as long as Loki approached no one, spoke only if directly spoken to and wore the face Natasha had christened "Daniel Connor". "If you're interested," she had added, with a turn of her head that gave Loki pause. It took some gentle manoeuvring not to seem too keen to visit nor too anxious to avoid the place. The fact he felt both conflicting emotions did not make it easier. 

Despite his mixed feelings it did not take long to value this small freedom. It was good to look out on the lights of the city, to see the open sky with his physical eyes, not merely the eyes of his mind. 

The only people he ever saw were the few moving specks in the streets far below. The room was used only by those who lived in the tower, and those few who remained did not seek him out. The only two he suspected ever might were Clint and Natasha, and he suspected they were away. Certainly there was to be no training for two or three days. 

Then into his peripheral vision came the unexpected - a light came on at the other end of the room. Curious, Loki moved his head just enough to get a glimpse of the newcomer and froze. It was not Clint, nor yet Natasha. It was _her_. And she was looking straight at him. 

A surge of anger caught him by surprise, a rush of heat suddenly devouring him, boiling in his gut and scalding his brain. For a moment all he felt was rage, and then he found himself breathing deeply, breathing as he did when aiming at a target in training. He could almost hear Clint's voice, businesslike and calm. _Concentrate. Breathe deeper._

He became aware of his clenched jaw, his tightening grip on the fragile reader. Slowly and consciously he relaxed his hands and face. The anger was still there, but he controlled it. It did not control him. 

She was here, and she had seen him. To vanish would only raise more questions. She was here and he could not get rid of her but she would go soon. He turned away, and directed his gaze to the screen in front of him. 

As he stared at the screen with unseeing eyes, he was conscious of the light increasing around him as if the sun was rising. She was approaching, then, the lights turning on over her as she went. 

_Why?_ and certainty came to him like a blow. This must be a test. This was surely just the kind of test the Black Widow would set for him. He must pass and therefore he must think this through. She could not know him. He could not believe that She would walk to him if she knew who he was. So the test must be to convince her he was Daniel Connor, a mortal of no particular importance. That should be achievable. 

So again, he consciously relaxed, flicking the screen to the next page at appropriate intervals though not one word of the text could he read as he concentrated on the increasing brightness of the room. And then she was there, no more than two feet away. 

It would have been unnatural not to glance up, so he glanced up, his features arranged in an expression of innocent surprise. Behind the mask, Loki could feel the fury rising again. She looked like a queen, her face determined under a crown of dark curls piled on her head. Her garments were not loose nor yet revealing, but skimmed her body in cloth of amethyst, high necked like armor but with asymmetrical fastening that reminded him of women's court dress. Her beauty enraged him. Her steady gaze was infuriating, even as Loki told himself she did not know who he was. She could not know. 

"Hi," he said, with an accent akin to Natasha's. For the first time she looked a little taken aback, swaying back and searching his face for a moment before recovering. 

"Hi," she said, and her voice was firm and unwavering. "I need your help." 

Darcy and Jane were more alike that either of them knew. Just as Jane would risk her life just to _see_ , to know what was happening, Darcy would do the same to help. She would run though a town being demolished to save dogs and kittens; she would go closer to the invading aliens to help close their gateway; she would walk up to her worst nightmare to help a friend. 

If Darcy could have chosen any room to do this in, the common room would have been low on the list. But that's where "Daniel Connor" was when she asked JARVIS, and he was there still when she walked in. JARVIS' odd flustered protest when she asked for Connor and insisted he tell no one confirmed all her suspicions. This guy was someone JARVIS didn't want her talking to. The expert was someone Jane didn't want her talking to. There were about five people left in the Tower and one of them was Loki, who definitely knew alien stuff. Seriously, it wasn't hard to work it out. 

But when he spoke, she thought it had all been a waste of time. Then she rallied. _Seriously? He looks completely different to Loki, just a kid in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and a different voice throws you?_ She said what she wanted and when he just frowned in confusion she said it again. "I need your help," and added, "Now." 

The red-haired kid tilted his head and did the puppy eyes thing. His shifting grey eyes were bluer as he looked up into the light. "Yeah, like, I heard you, but I don't know what you mean." He stuck out a hand. "Maybe start again? I'm Daniel. You're...?" 

Darcy was feeling brave, but stepping any closer? Nope. She decided to cut to the chase. "Yeah, I know. And you know who I am and I know who you _really_ are. So let's cut the crap. You said if I asked for help, you'd give it. I'm asking." 

The figure in the chair sat very still, hand still extended, then dropped it. "I really don't understand," he said, quite softly yet somehow a chill ran up Darcy's spine. 

"Look, Jane's in trouble," she said quickly, before she thought better of all this and ran. "It's something...weird. Alien. And she said she needed an expert. You." 

"So she told you," and this time Darcy jumped. The voice was no longer American. It wasn't exactly like Loki's, a little higher pitched maybe, but the unimpressed coldness was definitely the Loki she remembered. "She must be desperate to send _you_. But unfortunately, I must decline. I have sworn not to leave the building." 

Darcy was definitely tempted to tell him he was _so_ wrong about how she knew, but right now she didn't have time. "Unless escorted by a signatory to the contact," she said, and tapped the small leather satchel at her side. (Not that the document was in there, but she'd picked up some tricks from Tony. Make 'em think it's all at your finger tips.) "I signed. I count." 

The red-haired figure leaned back and stretched, and somehow with that motion "Daniel Connor" was gone completely. Even his eyes seemed more green. "Nonetheless, I decline." 

Darcy wasn't phased. She had expected this and she had asked all those months ago why the hell they expected that Loki would obey the contract. She remembered exactly what Nat had said. "And be dishonored?" His eyes narrowed just a fraction. "Break an oath, refuse to pay a debt, it's all the same right? You said you owed me. You said if I asked for your help you'd give it. Now I'm asking." 

"That was not what I said," but Loki knew he was merely delaying the inevitable. Hidden behind his head both his hands were fists, his nails digging into his palms to help him master the anger that still coursed through him. When he said what he had said, months ago in this very room, he had had something rather different in mind: a Darcy weeping and pleading for his help, a Darcy regretting what she had said... And instead here she stood, head back and chin raised, almost as commanding as his mother, not pleading but claiming his help as a right. 

Darcy frowned as she looked past him and towards the sleeping city, as if she was looking into the past. Then her eyes came back and Loki knew the game was over. "Beg, you said. Beg for your help." And she tutted and sighed, and was on her knees before he realized what was happening. The sight cut like a blade. This should have been his victory and yet it was hers, as she knelt in all her vulnerability and defiance. "See, I'm on my knees. I'm officially begging." 

He could not look any longer. Loki closed his eyes for a second and knew there was only one way to end it. "Very well," and the words echoed in the quiet room. He had spoken more forcefully that he had intended. He unfolded from the chair, but as he moved towards her Darcy hurriedly got to her feet. _So, not as unconcerned as she seemed._

"Cool. Ground rules," and despite himself Loki was amused. She was afraid, yet her brain was still working, finding ways to contain him. _Many have tried, little one, older and wiser than you._ "No killing or hurting me or other people." 

"It may prove difficult to help your friend in that case," Loki remarked, his voice as calm and cold as ever. 

"Fine. No killing or hurting unless as a last resort. No killing or hurting me or Jane. No lying to me. And you _have_ to save Jane. That's your job, okay?" 

"Very well." Her terms were less constraining than Darcy probably realized, but still, no need to actually bind himself. 

"Not good enough. Swear it. No killing or hurting me or Jane. No killing or hurting other people except as a last resort. No lying to me. You have to save Jane," and she waited with eyebrows raised. Not quite so naive then. 

Loki grinned without humor. "I swear I will abide by the conditions you have given me." 

"Your agreement to these conditions has been noted," said the disembodied voice of JARVIS, with something that sounded like warning in his voice. Loki continued as if JARVIS had not spoken. 

"So, what danger is Dr Foster in, that you must call on me?" Despite everything, despite his anger and the humiliation of Silvertongue being bested by a mortal, he was curious. 

"I'll tell you on the way to London. We've gotta hurry..." and she swung across her satchel and looked into it. "Do you have a passport...." 

What happened next was born of pure impulse. Later he would question it, but consciously all he felt was a desire to unsettle her as she unsettled him, to win a victory to counterbalance the victory she had won. He concentrated, Seeing a busy street corner while remaining aware of where she was. A step forward, a touch, and they were there. 

For Darcy there was a sudden pressure around her waist, the warmth of someone half an inch away. That all got swallowed up in the experience of the world around her twisting like taffy, bending and warping then somehow turning inside out. It got worse as something happened to her, something Darcy could only describe as turning inside out herself. When the spinning stopped and all her body parts were definitely in the right place the common room was gone and she was standing on the side of a street in broad daylight. 

She focused on looking around her and not throwing up, mainly the latter. Oblivious crowds rushed past. The traffic roared just like in New York, only there were red double decker buses, and black cabs and a large notice on the railing to her left said "Bakerloo Line. Piccadilly Line." as if that was normal. Down the stairs beyond the railings came echoes badly played music that she could swear was The Clash. "London Calling". Because of course it was. 

Nausea under control, she looked to her right. Loki had stepped away from her the moment they arrived or landed or whatever. He was watching her with a smug smile which left her wishing she _had_ thrown up after all, on his nice new chucks (and where had they come from anyway? He had been barefoot in the common room). 

"It would be best to hold your breath next time," he said. 

Her voice sounded odd when she started speaking but it soon warmed up. Maybe the shouting helped. 

"What the ACTUAL HELL?" Loki's smirk only widened. "You DO NOT DO THAT. NEW RULE. You DO NOT touch me without asking." 

"I do apologise," and while the words sounded perfectly apologetic, the smirk undercut it all. "I understood it was urgent so..." 

"Where the hell ARE WE?" asked Darcy, and then mentally facepalmed. She knew where they were. It was the how that had her stumped. 

"London," said Loki, with only a touch of condescension. His red hair was curling a little in the misty drizzle. He was still bare-armed but he didn't look cold. For that matter Darcy wasn't cold either. She was too furious to be cold. 

"You said we had to get to London and that we had to hurry," Loki explained patiently as she fumed. "So obviously, I did what you asked." 

"You KNOW I wasn't asking you to do that!" Loki looked innocent and slightly wounded. Darcy resisted the urge to take off a shoe and hit him with it. Because, hey, it's not like she had any more with her. "All my stuff, everything I was going to bring - it's all back in New York!" 

"I'm sure you'll think of something." 

"Oh my _GOD_ ," Darcy ground out, then stopped. This was getting them no-where. "You aren't supposed to be able to do that," she tried and Loki's face changed into a mixture of superiority and disdain, a look that said _well, of course you don't know what I'm capable of, how could you_ and for a moment, despite the red hair and innocent freckles and changeable eyes he looked like the cat he had been. Salem had looked like that. And maybe it was reaction, but Darcy leaned against the railing that closed off the entrance to the Underground and laughed hysterically. 

She calmed down, wiped her eyes, and looked back at Loki, who was looking at her as if wondering what kind of strange species she was. 

"Don't do it again without asking, okay? At least I've got my passport I guess," and she pulled it a little out of the bag and dropped it back in. "First, I ring JARVIS and calm him down. Do NOT move." 

Loki didn't. Instead his eyes ran over the crowds around him as Darcy turned 45 degrees away, doubtless towards some device so JARVIS could see her. A flick of Loki's fingers on arrival had ensured none wandered too close. But still, the noise, the chaos - it was fascinating and disturbing. There was that strange smell that he had also noticed in New York, a harsh acidic smell that permeated everything. The noise was deafening, a disharmony of wildly differing music, people talking and shouting, the whining and roaring of the vehicles on the road. The buildings matched the sounds, a mixture of tall, white gracious buildings which reminded him of trips to the southern seas when he was young, and newer ones of glass and steel. The street was wide and thronged with people, many of them _eating_ as they walked past and into the depths labelled _Underground_. It was, he assumed, less forboding than it sounded. 

* * *

On the huge dark ship they stood together, looking out into the emptiness of space.

Finally one spoke. "We are getting closer. Soon I will reclaim the Aether. I will restore our world that was lost and this aberration will be blotted out."

"There are still no signs of any defences," said the other. "There will be no resistance." 

Invisible to any eyes that might watch, the Dark Elf Ark moved towards its goal, Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another delay - hope it was worth the wait! 
> 
> As you can see, the timeline is already different from _The Dark World_ \- Thor is still in the wars and doesn't know about Jane and the Aether yet. At this stage in the other timeline Jane was on Asgard at this point...


	13. Trust Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You waited so long for the last, here's another to make up for it...

The middle-aged man who collected them at the Theatre Royal Haymarket a short walk down the road was as sleek, powerful and silent as the black Tesla he drove. His head and chin were smoothly shaved, his black well-tailored suit hinted at muscles underneath and the perfect white t-shirt contrasted with his teak skin. Loki was not surprised to notice the dark eyes watching him in the rear view mirror as they settled into the leather seats, as far apart from each other as the interior allowed. There was little he could do, except attempt to look yet more harmless.

When their belts were on, Jon Palmer spoke. "So, what's it to be? Directly to the townhouse or the scenic route?"

Darcy paused for a micro-second, clearly tempted. "The townhouse," she said, with decision. "We have to talk to Jane." 

The eyes in the mirror crinkled briefly. "First time in London?" he asked. When Darcy nodded the eyes turned to Loki. "And you?" The note of interrogation was slight, but there. The man had clearly marked Loki down as trouble. Loki approved and was irritated all at once. 

Aware he should turn on the charm, Loki found himself not in the mood. "I agree, the townhouse," he said, in as curt a manner as he dared. 

The eyes studied him. "Local?" 

Loki paused. "Not exactly," he said at last. This the driver seemed to accept. All the same, Loki felt his gaze at intervals throughout the journey.

Darcy was clearly fascinated with the city. The first squeal came when they drove slowly around a square which even Loki found impressive, surrounded by columned stone buildings of elegant design and with a huge pillar, guarded by huge statues of lions and surmounted by a statue of a man, doubtless some hero or king if Asgard was any guide. Darcy remained glued to the window, squealing again as they passed a tall clock tower of warm stone, which sheltered a huge palace ornamented with spires and arched windows beside it. "What's the _scenic_ route like?" she asked breathlessly, her face pressed against the glass trying to see as much as possible. The driver didn't answer, but from what Loki could see of his face in the mirror, he was amused. 

She was speechless when, finally, they drove down the narrow road to Tony's townhouse. It was a narrow brick building of beautiful proportions, with railings marking it off from the street and an archway beside it that Jon turned into. As the electric gates opened Darcy gazed up at the rows of tall windows glazed with white-rimmed squares of glass, and the central door protected by a white porch with columns. "Wow," she said finally, as the car drove onto a driveway of laid brick and the gate closed behind them. 

Jon led them from the driveway to a path that wandered through dripping evergreen shrubs, ending at a large circle of brick at the back of the house. Jon unlocked the wide glass doors and ushered them in. Loki noticed, if Darcy did not, that the doors were newer than the house and stronger than they appeared. A gorgeous smell greeted them. 

"I've laid out breakfast," Jon said, ushering them to the antique wooden chairs set around a table where china, cutlery and glassware had been laid for three on a pristine white tablecloth. Darcy didn't need telling twice. It wasn't until she smelt the food that she realized she was starving. She'd also kill for coffee. Loki remained standing, looking around the room as if expecting a threat to appear at any moment. 

"Sit down," Darcy hissed at him. He gave her a single, unimpressed look and remained standing. 

Jon came back in, carrying a large jug of orange juice and a basket of croissants. Darcy's stomach growled audibly. Her body thought it was 3 o'clock in the morning, but it also insisted it was hungry. From across the room, Loki gave her another unimpressed look. She pulled a face back, and turned towards Jon with a winning smile. "I think I love you Mr Palmer," she said. Jon gave her a long level stare, with a slight suggestion of amusement in it. 

"I get that more than you probably think, Ms Lewis. And Jon would be fine." 

"Hey, It's Darcy. Ms Lewis is my mom." Behind Jon's back Loki rolled his eyes. 

"Darcy then. There are sausages, bacon, fried eggs and mushrooms in the chafing dishes," and he pointed to the sideboard behind him. "I'll bring in the coffee and tea in a moment. JARVIS informs me Jane is awake and will be down shortly." 

The moment he left, Darcy was reaching for the basket. Loki watched her as she tore a croissant apart, smeared it with conserve and ate it with appreciative sounds that were not helpful to his peace of mind. 

"Must you eat like an animal?" The words were more heated than he intended and Darcy looked up in surprised annoyance. 

"Excuse me, your Highness. Some of us haven't eaten in hours. Sides, I'm not taking politeness lessons from someone prowling around the room." 

Loki gave her a withering look. "So careless. Have you no concern that we may be being watched?" 

Darcy looked up to heaven, then locked eyes with him as she spoke. "Are we being watched JARVIS?" 

"No, Ms Lewis, you are not." 

"Good enough for me." She smirked, broke eye contact and returned with gusto to her croissant eating, until the door opened and Jane came in looking pale and worn. 

"Darcy! How are you here? I thought you were going to ring," and her gaze turned to Loki as Jon came in carrying tea and coffee. "Who's this?" 

Jon put the pots down and pulled out a seat for Jane at the head of the table. "Sit down and have some breakfast," he said, his voice gentle. Darcy had liked Jon on sight, but now he shot up even further in her estimation. After pouring coffee for Jane and Darcy, he nodded. "I have errands to run, so I will be away for the next hour. JARVIS assures me he can look after your needs." With that he left the room through the glass doors. They clicked to behind him. 

"Not yet," said Loki, with a warning look to Darcy. 

"Who is that guy?" Jane asked Darcy again. 

Darcy held up a finger and tilted her head at the ceiling. "JARVIS, can Jon access your recordings?" 

"Yes, Ms Lewis." 

"Could you lock all conversations involving us three to me, please? Usual security." 

"That has been done. By the way, your luggage should arrive this afternoon." 

"Thanks JARVIS, you're a life-saver." Darcy turned to Jane and shrugged. "That guy's your expert. That's Loki." 

Jane looked from Darcy to Loki, mouth open. "It is?" And then, as realization dawned, "You went and got him yourself? You didn't have to do that, Darcy, I never meant..." 

"It doesn't matter, Jane, honest." 

Loki spoke for the first time. "Might we now find out why exactly we are here?" 

Darcy shot him a look. "First Jane has breakfast. Then we talk." 

Fifteen minutes later, Darcy stacked the plates and poured fresh coffee. Even Loki had eaten, putting away an astonishing amount of food from the chaffing dishes. Annoyingly, his table manners were beyond perfect. Jane had some color in her face now, Darcy was pleased to notice. 

Jane sipped the coffee and started her story. "I was here looking for Erik. _You_ know," and she nodded across the table at Loki, sitting on her right. "I couldn't track him down. But while I was here, I picked up an interesting reading..." 

"You brought your equipment," said Darcy. It wasn't a question, more an expression of disbelief. Foolish disbelief, of course, because Jane. 

"Of course," said Jane with simple surprise. "I hopped in a taxi and tracked it down." Darcy wished she could have been a fly on that wall. 

"It was a warehouse in West London," Jane said. "The gravimetric anomolies..." Loki leaned forward with an intense look of interest on his freckled face. Jane grinned shakily. "It really _is_ you isn't it? To make a long story short, I somehow ended up somewhere else." 

"You walked between worlds," said Loki, his voice soft and reassuring. Darcy glanced at him, surprised not at the words, but how he said them. "Like the _mundus cerialis_ you spoke of. The Convergence creates soft spots, gateways between worlds." 

"Yes!" Jane's nod was weak, but enthusiastic. "Yes, I didn't think of that. Why didn't I? It was a huge cavern. It felt deep underground. In the middle there were two stones, carved with, I don't know, runes I guess?" Loki leaned forward again, but this time his face was focused, drinking in Jane's account. She continued, her eyes distant as if seeing it all again. "One floated above the other. I went to see why and...there was this liquid, only it wasn't liquid." 

"Why was it not liquid?" Loki's voice still reassuring but there was an intensity behind it that made Darcy glance at him again. 

"It... _floated_ ," Jane said. "It was floating in the air between the rocks. And then it came for me. I couldn't get it off. It came and ran over my body and..." 

Darcy was already up and on her feet beside Jane's chair, putting her arm around her. "It's okay. We get the picture. That's what you think you've brought back, right?" 

"Yes," said Jane, and turned into Darcy's shoulder. 

Loki was also on his feet. "Perhaps some fresh air?" he suggested. Though still grey, the drizzle had stopped. JARVIS opened the glass door and they stepped out onto the brick circle, a space made private by the shielding shrubs. Loki brought a napkin which surprised Darcy until he wiped one of the white painted cast-iron seats with it for Jane to sit down on. As Jane sat, Loki drew Darcy to one side. 

"If you want to help your friend, stay back," he hissed. 

As Darcy backed off, Loki turned to Jane. "Are you feeling any better?" Concern sounded clearly in his voice. 

"Much," said Jane, breathing deep and looking around her. 

"How do you know you brought the entity back with you?" 

Jane's eyes widened. "I don't know. I guess I feel it..." 

"You came back, I assume to the warehouse. What happened when you returned?" His voice was suddenly hard, demanding an answer. 

"I..." and Jane shrank back into her chair. Darcy shifted uncomfortably. "I'd been gone for hours. Six hours. It was dark and there were no taxis. I was walking back...they came out of no-where, they tried to pull off my bag..." 

"What did you do to them?" and despite his lack of height, the red-haired figure was now menacing, moving closer to where Jane sat. Jane shrank back further, and he leaned over her aggressively. "What did you do to them?" Loki's voice echoed in the garden. 

"Loki. Stop," Darcy said loudly, but no-one was listening. 

Jane's head was back in defiance. "I didn't do anything," she shouted back. "I didn't! It wasn't me!" 

"You abomination!" Loki yelled, raising his fist as his face contorted in disgust. 

"NO!" Darcy screamed as the fist came down. She darted forward knowing that she had to stop him, only to be knocked off her feet by a sudden blast of energy. She landed hard on the brick pavement a few feet away. She saw stars for a moment, then when she started to sit up, Jane and Loki were beside her. 

"Oh my God, Darcy," and Jane crouched to help Darcy up. "I didn't mean...It wasn't me. I swear." 

"I told you to stay back," Loki said bitingly. "That was a very stupid thing to do. You could have been killed." 

"I thought you were going to hurt Jane," Darcy said. Jane had helped her to her feet while he stood there, unbending and disapproving. 

"I had no intention of it. You should have trusted me," Loki said. 

Darcy said nothing. She didn't trust him. That was the problem. Their eyes met for a moment, then Loki nodded and looked away. "Are you injured?" he asked. 

"Just my pride," Darcy said, trying to lighten the mood. "So, what's the diagnosis?" 

Her heart sank as Loki paused. "Let us go inside." Before they did, Loki picked the table up from where it had been knocked onto its side. Darcy, following suit, picked up a chair. It was heavy, _really_ heavy. Whatever was inside Jane was scary powerful. 

Darcy's worry only grew at Loki's obvious concern about Jane. He not only hovered at her elbow walking in, but pulled out her chair for her to sit down. 

Once all were settled around the table, it was Loki's turn to speak. He looked keenly at Jane as if evaluating her strength, before beginning with something that had be a quote. What it was from, Darcy couldn't tell. "Before the eternal night, the Dark Elves come to steal away your light." A beat, and he continued. "As you know the Convergence comes every five thousand years. The last time, in the time of Thor's grandfather Bor, a race called the Dark Elves tried to use a weapon called the Aether which changes matter into dark matter. They were defeated in their attempt to destroy the Nine Realms, and the Aether was supposedly annihilated." He looked at Jane and his eyes narrowed a little, Darcy could swear in sympathy. "That weapon is what I think is inside you. It seeks out hosts, drawing strength from their life force. When it feels threatened, it defends itself. You have no control over it. Do not feel guilty about what it does." He looked down at the table cloth, one finger stroking a pulled thread. "The Aether still exists. Bor lied." 

"Hold on," Darcy said, face sceptical. "Destroy the Nine Realms? Isn't that destroying the universe? Wouldn't that have destroyed them too?" 

"The Dark Elves believed they existed before the Realms," Loki replied. "Some even claimed to remember that time. They believed they were trapped in corporeal form when the Realms came to be, their world remade as a mere physical shadow of its former beauty. Yet," he continued in a lower voice, "the old warriors said it _was_ beautiful." He went on. "The Aether was made from a fragment of that previous existence that had survived. It can unmake the universe, and the Dark Elves believed in that unmaking, they would regain their immaterial existence." 

Darcy nodded, but beside her Jane's eyes had grow wide with horror. "What's inside me," she beckoned at her chest, "can destroy everything? What do we do? How do we get it out?" 

Loki did not answer immediately. "I don't know. We must go to Asgard. The healers are there, the lore of Bor's time...your only hope lies there." 

"Great, " said Darcy. "Let's go." 

Loki nodded. "We must go as soon as we can." He turned to Jane. "Is there anything you wish to bring?"

Jane shook her head. She looked pale again, Darcy noticed. "I don't think so." 

"Your instrument?" Loki prompted. "The one that started all this?" 

"I'll get it," said Darcy, jumping up. "Where is it?" 

"It's upstairs," Jane said. "Go into the main hall, up the stairs then go right - it's the third door after the double doors. It should be in its case." 

"We will be outside," Loki added, as Darcy hurried out of the room. 

The hall was a large square room, with wood panelling painted a pale green. At another time Darcy would have stopped to look at the pictures, but instead she turned up the curved wooden stairs, taking a hard right when she reached the double doors at the top. Luckily Jane hadn't unpacked and it didn't take long for Darcy to find the small battered metal case she was looking for. Only stopping to grab a wrap (Jane really didn't look well, and who knew how warm Asgard was) she came back down at speed. 

When she went back into the dining room, she could see directly out the glass door on the other side of the room. Loki was back in his own form, dressed in clothes Darcy recognised from blurry video of Stuttgart. For an instant Darcy paused, then she pulled herself together, forcing herself to look at the image as if it was a picture and walk towards it. Both figures were motionless. Jane was sitting on the white cast-iron chair again, one elbow on the table and her head turned away gazing into space. In her beige slacks and jumper she was a symphony of warm brown tones, as beautiful and everyday as the garden furniture. Loki stood beside Jane as if on guard, a complete contrast with his exotic clothing; green and black and bronze which linked him to the evergreens and bare twisted branches behind him.. His green eyes glowed in his pale set face as he stared intensely into the dining room. Darcy was obscurely reminded of paintings of unearthy beings bewitching mortals. Unconsciously she sped up, certain somehow that he had seen her even though he gave no sign. 

It wasn't until she was three feet from the door that he finally moved, looking directly at her for a moment, then leaning behind Jane to put a note on the white table. The movement woke Jane from her daydream and as Loki straightened again, Darcy saw that Jane saw her. She saw Jane's smile of recognition dawn as Loki lifted his head and spoke to the sky and the golden light came down. Darcy was running now, screaming at JARVIS to open the door as she dropped the instrument and ran. She kept her eyes on Jane, Jane's shock, Jane's mouth opening to call her, Jane starting to stand but before Darcy could get there the light grew brighter and she couldn't see Jane any more. 

She was through the open glass door into the garden, the golden light was all around her, but it was fading. They were gone. They had left her behind. _He_ had left her behind. 

For a moment Darcy was lost. Then the fury came. All she could do was thrown back her head and howl. "YOU FUCKING _BASTARD!_ "

* * *

Heimdal stood like a golden statue in the glory that was the jewel of Asgard, the Observatory. He did not have to wait long. 

Jane's face when she appeared was glowing. Eyes wide, she hardly noticed Loki setting her on her feet as she gazed in awe at the intricate golden interior around her. "That was amazing," she breathed. 

She turned, eyes sweeping the walls, examining every loop and rune until her gaze fell on Loki. Immediately her face changed, awe morphing into anger. Jaw set, eyes blazing with fury, she marched over to Loki and swung at him. 

Loki had expected no less. He did not move but waited to accept the blow. What he had not expected was how much it would hurt. His head was forced to the side by her slap and his jaw felt for a moment as if it had been dislocated. Jane might not control the Aether, but it was clearly willing to lend her its strength. 

When the ringing in his ears faded and he could focus, he tuned into what Jane was saying. Out of the corner of the eye he could see the ghost of a sardonic smile on Heimdal's normally impassive face. 

"...unforgivable. How could you do it? I trusted you. _She_ trusted you!" 

"No," he cut across her. "No, she did not." 

Jane snorted. "Then she was right not to, wasn't she?" Her face contorted. "She did all this for me, and we've abandoned her. She'll think...I don't know what she'll think. She'll think I knew..." 

"You need have no fear of that," Heimdal's voice chimed in. "She is, even now, cursing Loki for his treachery." He paused. "Quite inventively. She does not blame you." 

Jane wheeled to him. "Are you sure? Is she okay?" 

Heimdal's eyes grew distant. "Yes. She has found your note, Prince Loki." 

"At last," said Loki sardonically. He had felt a pang of _something_ when he saw Darcy's frantic eyes as the Bifrost carried them away, but now this fuss about poor Darcy was supremely irritating. He had waited so she could see it was Loki's decision, not Jane's. He had pointedly placed the note to ensure she found it. What more did they want of him? 

"What does it say?" Jane asked. 

"Does it matter?" Loki snapped. "Your only hope is here. Bringing her would have seen us all sent straight back to Midgard. I have sworn to save your life, now let me do it!" 

Jane raised her head high. Her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched. "I don't believe you." Loki tensed, expecting another blow. 

"Loki is taking the path he thinks wisest." Tension broken, both Loki and Jane stared at Heimdal and it would be difficult to tell who was the most surprised. Heimdal nodded to acknowledge their attention, then spoke again. "A steed awaits outside. A messenger has been sent to Thor. And this you may find useful." 

Once outside, Jane examined the black cloak as Loki checked the harness of the chestnut waiting for them. "A cloak of obscurity? So it makes us less noticeable? How does it work?" 

"Magic," said Loki over his shoulder, and went back to tightening the girth. The horse stamped, and Jane took a step back. Loki straightened up, picked her up bodily and put her onto the saddle. He joined her, took the cloak from her hands, and wrapped it around him. "Enough questions. We have little time to get to the Houses of Healing." 

* * *

Darcy cursed, crushed the note and raised her hand to throw it away in disgust. Then she stopped herself, smoothed it out onto the garden table and read it again. 

The writing was graceful and clearly legible, even after the note's mistreatment. "I have sworn to you to save Jane's life. The only way I see to do this is to bring her to Asgard. Taking you would be an unacceptable risk. One mortal will be unwelcome, two an outrage. I would argue the point with you, but time is short. You do not trust me. If I could ensure Jane's safety without deceiving you I would, but I do not believe I can. Fare well." 

"Liar," Darcy muttered. Some of it was true. She didn't trust him. She certainly wouldn't have let him bring Jane to Asgard alone without a fight. But the rest? Bullshit. He didn't like her, so he left her behind. 

Darcy shook herself like a dog. Well, screw him. She wasn't going to let this slow her down. At least Jane was in Asgard. That had to be the most important thing, right? And when she came back, Erik would be there to talk to her. 

Suddenly the day seemed a little less dark. Darcy stood up with decision and went into the house to reassure JARVIS for the second time that day that everything was okay. 

* * *

As the Ark rose invisibly into the London skies, Malekith, king of the Dark Elves, looked out with unseeing eyes. "It is on Asgard. I can feel it." 

Algrim, standing at his shoulder nodded. "Could they know?" 

Malekith shook his head. "No. Asgard merely craves the power of the Aether, as we always knew they would." 

"The worlds will soon be aligned," Algrim said, "I am ready to make the sacrifice." 

Malekith turned and placed a hand on his shoulder. "My friend. You will be the last of the Kursed." His other hand drew a dagger from his robes, which he slashed deeply into Algrim's stomach. As Algim bent, silent in his agony, Malekith's hand travelled from his shoulder to the nape of his neck. Malekith looked into Algim's eyes for the last time, so close that their foreheads touched. "You will become darkness. Cursed to this existence until it consumes you. Until then, no power our enemies possess can stop you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to say that it's not my fault. I wanted Darcy to go to Asgard, but Loki insisted it go down like this. And to be fair he has a point. (Odin kicked her back to Earth in the first draft :-)
> 
> The Dark Elves have been slowed down by the detour to Earth, but not stopped...
> 
> Oh, and the non-scenic route: Haymarket down Pall Mall to Trafalgar Square, down Whitehall to Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster, then down the A3212 to a very expensive, secluded, isolated and imaginary Queen Anne house in Chelsea :)


	14. Acceptance

When Jon came into his kitchen, he found Darcy leaning against the granite-topped island watching a recording on the small screen that swung down underneath the wooden cabinets. She turned as he came in. 

"I hope it's okay. I was just bringing down the plates and stuff and JARVIS said he had something I needed to see." 

Jon nodded, put his shopping on the island and leaned over the counter to watch. Darcy touched the screen and the video restarted, with a wide shot of Stonehenge interrupted by the entrance of a naked man chased by police. 

"The police were called to the scene shortly after 11am this morning after a seemingly harmless rambler approached the area then decided to strip naked and terrorize tourists with scientific equipment, while shouting that he was trying to save them. The man, later identified as noted astrophysicist Dr. Erik Selvig, has been called in for questioning by police." 

"Why are we watching this?" Jon asked. 

"That's the guy Jane was looking for," Darcy answered, pointing at the strategically pixelated still of Erik. "He's gotten worse," she said, almost under her breath. 

Jon studied what he could see of the worried frown. "Where _is_ Jane?" he asked. 

Darcy had prepared her answer. "Daniel brought her to a specialist he knows. He thinks she has a medical problem that caused her panic attack last night." 

"Smooth," said Jon. "But not true." He held up a hand as Darcy opened her mouth to protest. "I don't need to know if you can't tell me. But I trust you, and anything you need, I'll willing to help." 

In a day of emotional ups and downs, this was both reassuring and deeply surprising. "Why? You don't even know me." 

"Tony has a lot of long-term staff," Jon said. "We stay in touch. Bethany appreciated your help a great deal," he added. 

After the first surprise, it made perfect sense. "Is this like a Tony Stark support group?" Darcy asked. 

Jon moved to put his purchases away. "Absolutely not," he threw over his shoulder. 

It totally was a Tony Stark support group, Darcy decided. 

* * *

Loki stood in the shadows watching Eir manipulate the golden light in which Jane lay. He was focused on the noises outside the room, but some of the conversation filtered into his consciousness. 

Jane, curious as always: "That’s a quantum field generator, isn’t it?" 

"It’s a Soul Forge," Eir corrected her. 

"Does a Soul Forge transfer molecular energy from one place to another?" 

Eir was impressed with her mortal patient, Loki could tell. It was a far cry from her reaction when they arrived at the Houses of Healing. When they swept in, Eir look one look at Loki and his companion and brought them to a secluded room. She attended them herself without assistance. Loki had always suspected Eir knew more than she revealed. To those that _knew_ the clothes he wore were a warning. Her obvious doubts about his sanity only became more marked when he told her what he suspected had happened to Jane.

Eir made a slight noise, drawing Loki's attention. In the golden light swirled something red and opaque. It reduced the light falling on Eir's face, throwing into sharp relief her ill-concealed concern. A flick of her fingers and runes appeared, placed where Loki could read them. It was as he had surmised. Jane was strong, but she only had days before the Aether drained her life force completely. 

The results had come just in time, judging by the noises outside. Loki moved forward to place himself between Jane and the door, carefully avoiding the look Eir was giving him. With a shrug Eir retreated behind the table. 

Odin strode in, a troop of Einherjar at his back. One look at Loki and he raised his hand. "I will talk to my son alone." The guards retreated. The door closed. 

Odin advanced, looking Loki up and down. Loki could see the distaste in his eyes. It only increased when Loki pasted on a crooked smile, put his hands behind his back and bounced on his toes. "Tell me why," the king asked heavily, "my son returns unannounced, dressed like _that_ , bringing a mortal to these hallowed halls?" 

"I dress like this, _Father_ , to ensure our private conversation. To ensure nothing...unfortunate might occur." Loki knew it would be wiser not to speak so to Odin, but for the life of him he could not bring himself to speak respectfully after how the king had looked at him. 

"And the mortal?" Odin enquired. "Compared to that transgression your clothes are of no moment. She does not belong..." 

Loki cut into the king's slight pause, stealing his chance to speak. "Father, that is most unkind to our guest." He kept his light jesting tone despite the narrowing of Odin's eye that suggested dire consequences awaited him. "Especially to one who bears so rare a gift." 

He half bowed, allowing Odin see the red light that moved among the gold of the Soul Forge. The king stopped as if frozen. "It is impossible!" 

"Would that it were, sire," Loki said, dropping his false levity. As Odin moved towards the table, Loki drew back courteously with a warning. "I would take care, my king. The energy protects itself." 

Odin's eyes scanned the runes, and he ran a hand gently up Jane's arm. As if in response, her skin glowed red. His eyes rose to meet those of Eir, who shook her head. Odin nodded in reply. "Say nothing of this." He turned to look at Loki. "You! Come with me." 

Loki did not immediately answer. His quick ears had heard another stir outside the room, and he suspected he knew what it was. "There is one other thing I should tell you, " Loki said, with a sardonic smile, just as Thor burst in.

* * *

Odin accepted the news of Jane's identity calmly. But why would he not? Loki thought cynically. He had seen Eir's chart, he knew that the Aether was eating Jane alive. 

Thor's arrival changed things. They all walked together to the library, Loki standing tall beside the king, Thor and Jane behind doubtless making eyes at each other. Most of Loki's armor was gone, swept into the pocket dimension it inhabited when not in use, leaving him dressed in doublet, shirt and trousers with the cloak wrapped around him. His urge to irritate Odin had given way to the need to fulfil his oath. 

The book Odin showed them told little more than Loki had already told Jane, but she listened quietly as if hearing it for the first time. Loki recognised in her what had existed in himself so long, years of being told what you already knew but knowing no good would come from pointing it out. Not all would bear it so patiently...unbidden an image of Darcy sceptically questioning Odin came to his mind, and he bit his lips to suppress a smile. 

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Thor asked a question. "Are you certain the Dark Elves are dead? The Aether was said to have been destroyed with them, and yet here it is." Thor had grown, once such a question would never have occurred to him. It had occurred to Loki already. Thor seemed to accept Odin's assurance, but Loki's nagging doubt could not be soothed away so easily. 

Jane spoke tentatively. "Does your book happen to mention how to get it out of me?" She did not look surprised to learn that it did not. 

"The keepers of lore shall be summoned," Odin said, rising from his seat. "All efforts shall be made to contain the Aether." 

The other three copied the king, rising from their seats. Loki bowed to attract the king's notice and spoke. His voice was respectful - it was important he did not aggravate his father who would refuse his request as easily as accede to it. "I ask for leave to search the lore. I am sworn to save her life," he added, in reply to the questioning glance from Odin. 

"Very well," said Odin. "For the rest, you all may go as you will." His eyes scanned the battle-stained Thor and the nondescript beige of Jane. "On condition you dress appropriately and bring no shame to the Royal House!" 

They bowed as he swept out (Jane awkwardly copying Thor) then sat down and breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

"You know more than he does," Jane said to Loki, and Loki felt a warm unexpected glow. "If there's anything to find I know you'll find it." 

"Loki was quite the favourite of the soldiers as a child," Thor said, leaning into Jane and grinning. "He knows more than the lore, truth be told, for he heard all the stories of the Svartalfheim campaign." 

Loki felt the warmth slip away to be replaced by irritation. "That was centuries ago, "he snapped. "Do you think I have learned nothing since?" He had the reward of seeing the smile vanish from Thor's face, and Jane turn worried eyes on him. Loki breathed in and modulated his voice. "Be sure, Jane, I will do all I can to help you. Go, see Asgard, and do not worry." 

The last words brought the smile back to Thor's face. "I will bring you to see mother, Jane." 

"No need," said a gentle voice behind them. From behind a pillar stepped a tall figure in cloth of silver and deep peacock blue, her head heavy with a crown of red-gold hair. 

Thor's face lit up. He took Jane's hand and drew her over. "Jane Foster, please meet Frigga, Queen of Asgard. My mother." 

Jane's mouth dropped open. To Loki's eyes she looked like she would like to run away, no doubt expecting the same welcome she had got from Odin. With no escape possible, she attempted an awkward bow and muttered something inaudible. Frigga caught her spare hand, and when Jane looked up smiled gently. Slowly, Jane returned the smile. 

"No need for that," Frigga said. "I should bow to you. It has been so dull here without my sons, and now both are here at once, thanks to you." She looked across at Loki, who still stood beside the table. "We shall speak later," she said softly. "Now," and Frigga drew her arm through Jane's, and spoke confidentially, "I shall find you some clothes while Thor finds a bath. He is not fit to be seen." 

"Mother!" complained Thor, but he was laughing. The group left, with Frigga giving Loki one last glance over her shoulder.

* * *

Darcy had often reflected on being a side-kick. That's what she was, right? The person in the background fetching coffee, making fake id, stopping the hero from killing his or herself through overwork or curiosity...Darcy had often wondered what it would be like being the one with the sidekick. 

The answer was, if the sidekick was Jon, totally awesome. Between Jon and JARVIS, she had her luggage from NY, they knew where Erik was (transferred from the police to a psychiatric faculty), what they needed to check him out and when ("we insist on watching him overnight" apparently). 

The only downside with even the best side-kicks was that eventually you had to face the music yourself. Pepper seemed to get that Jane had been in serious need of help, that only Loki could help her, that Darcy couldn't wait to run it past anyone...but she sensed that a serious talking-to was in her near future. 

"Well, at least Rhodey can relax," Pepper closed with a sigh. "I'll tell him." Darcy was relieved. She'd totally forgotten the guy existed. Ooops. 

Still, that was in the future. Right now Darcy still wanted Jane to find Erik waiting for her when she got back. Hopefully tomorrow would be soon enough. (She refused to even contemplate Jane not coming back. The space gods would sort it out. They had to.) 

* * *

Loki had not stirred from the library since Thor and Jane had left. The scraps of parchment around him were covered with notes, the table stacked with books. Fewer books than he had hoped, unfortunately, and none with useful information. Or rather, none with the useful information he wanted to find. Quite the opposite. 

No wonder he did not notice her as she approached on silent feet until she was mere feet away. Frigga smiled conspiratorially at him over the tray she carried and despite himself he was charmed into a smile. 

"I need to keep working," he said. He had worked day and night without food and sleep before, and (Jon Palmer be praised) he had eaten well on Midgard. 

Frigga pursed her lips and shook her head. "You should eat to keep your strength up." And, when he did not move, she added imperiously, "Do you deny the orders of your queen? Clear the table!" 

He could not help but be amused at such a tone, coupled with the manual work she was doing. "I beg pardon, most gracious queen. I had mistaken you for a serving maid." His head tilted sideways as he spoke, his eyes sparkling with mischief and the queen laughed. 

A space was cleared, the tray laid down, and Loki found he was indeed hungry. Frigga poured his wine, then sat beside him and watched him fondly as he ate. "You should also rest," she commented. 

"Not yet," Loki said. "I still have not found the answers I seek." 

"Do you think that you will?" asked Frigga calmly. 

Loki laid down his knife and looked at her. "I must," he said. "The Aether can be controlled, that much is clear. The only question is how _I_ can control it." 

Frigga nodded. "Sometimes you must walk away from your books to find the answer." 

Loki searched her face. "Yes, that is true," he said slowly. "But when you last advised me on research I was a stripling just returned from Midgard. Why are you advising me now?" He paused, a small crease appearing between his brows. "What have you seen?" 

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Now, you know very well that if I _had_ seen what is to come, I could not tell you." She signed. "I worry about you." 

Loki frowned in earnest. "You need not." 

Frigga's eyes met his. "Need not, but should I not? Things have not gone as you hoped, I think." 

Loki's face remained carefully blank. "No. But for that very reason I am more _rested_ than I have been these five hundred years."

Frigga sighed and laid her hand over his. They sat a moment in silence before she sighed again, a long-drawn-out sigh that had Loki glancing at her as her hand fell away from his and she slumped in her chair. "No! Mother!" His chair fell back on the ground as Loki rushed to her side. No sooner was he on his knees beside her than Frigga's eyes were opening, as if in answer to his silent prayers. He loosened her breastplate then swung her up into his arms. 

Eir would never forget the prince's face as he appeared for the second time that day in the Houses of Healing, this time out of the air. He had lost his iron control over his features: his face was frantic, his eyes wide and fearful. He did not need to voice his fears. Once again Eir swept him into the back room and thanked the Nine that her assistants knew how to hold their tongues. 

Loki laid the queen on the examination table as gently as any of Eir's staff and took her hand as Eir bustled about her. The queen's eyes were clear, Eir was glad to see. Frigga looked up at her son, and brought her free hand across to stroke his. "Do not look so, my son." 

Loki was looking more calm, but the fear was still in his eyes. "You fainted," he pointed out urgently. "Have you been unwell? Odin said nothing..."

"There was nothing to tell," and puzzlement crossed Frigga's face. "I have felt well and do so now, perfectly well." 

"The prince was wise to bring you here," Eir butted in, sensing where the queen's line of thought was going. "A faint may mean nothing, it may mean everything. It would be foolish to ignore it." 

The queen's sigh spoke of faint exasperation. She turned back to her son, "It is my turn now to ask you not to worry. You may be sure that if there is anything wrong, Eir will keep me here until she finds it." 

Eir clicked her tongue to acknowledge the thoroughness attributed to her, then looked across at the prince. "I will examine her now." The unspoken message was that Loki needed to step away. 

Reluctantly Loki let go of Frigga's hand. She looked up at him and smiled. "You need not stay." She glanced sideways at Eir. "There is no need for two of us to be trapped here." 

"I do not know what I would do without you!" The words burst from Loki's mouth as if he could not hold them back. "Without you, I would have nothing!" 

Eir's face went professionally blank, as if she had been struck deaf. She turned away as Frigga took Loki's hand again and spoke. "Know this my own sweet son. You will find your place. Happiness is waiting for you. I know it."

"Have you seen it?" said Loki, a slight hint of mischief breaking through his concern. 

"I know it in my heart," Frigga said. "Trust my faith." 

* * *

It had been a perfect day. When a freshly bathed Thor went to his mother's rooms, Jane rushed to greet him. Dressed in Asgardian clothing she took his breath away. 

Wandering the districts of Asgard away from the palace, Jane was charmed by the peace and the beauty of the streets, intrigued by the children's toys and the workmen's tools and curious about the craftwork evident everywhere. They bought street food, and Jane was amused at how everyone seemed to know who Thor was. Voices greeted him on every side. "Well met, Prince Thor." "Strength to your arm, your highness." If they looked at his companion with curious eyes, they asked no questions. Was Thor not well known for his unusual taste in friends? 

The messenger finally found them at the waterfront. He assured them there was no cause for alarm, but that their presence was required at the Houses of Healing. They were greeted there by Eir who put a finger to her lips and lead them to one of the private alcoves where patients might rest. Inside a golden head and a dark head broke off their conversation to turn smiles on the newcomers, smiles so alike Thor's heart leaped in his chest. 

For the next hour, Thor rejoiced in conversation. Loki was different from what he had been, his face softer, seemly taking joy in simply being with his mother. Thor could feel Jane's hand relax in his as stories were told: of Frigga's faint ("such a fuss about nothing" said Frigga, patting Loki's arm fondly), of mishaps of the Warriors Three, of Thor and Loki's childhoods, of events in the lab, of Loki imitating Natasha (which made Jane's eyebrows rise even as she laughed). There was no irritation, no sharp remarks, no conflict. The only disagreement was Jane's when Loki praised her learning to Frigga. "Do not protest," Frigga said a blushing Jane. "I can see your worth with my own eyes." 

All too soon Eir made them leave. "You should rest," she reproved Frigga. "And so should you," she said, casting a thoughtful eye over Jane. 

Eir insisted on examining Jane again, and as she did so Loki spoke low to Thor. "Do not fear, I have not forgotten my task." 

"Never think I grudge your time spent with our mother," Thor protested softly. "I am glad she was with you." 

Loki nodded, all expression smoothing out of his face, and Thor wondered what was going through his mind. "Give my best wishes to Jane," and Loki was gone. 

* * *

Jane had slept as soon as she was lain on the bed. Asleep without her curiosity driving her, she looked thin, in the way that well worn linen is thin. There was a translucent quality to her that gripped Thor's heart in pity and fear. He undid the ties of her breastplate, covered her with a fur throw and lay by her side. He had had days of battle with little sleep, and he suspected that Odin would not summon him now, not with Frigga ill. 

Sleep was slow in coming. It had been a perfect day, but now Jane's questions ran persistently though his mind. Why did the craftsmen use hand-tools when magnetic propulsion powered children's toys? Could she get a ball of her own? (That one made him chuckle - she had been captivated by that ball.) Why were there no screens or displays and why were horses used for transport? Why was she wearing armor when she couldn't fight and why did it leave one side unprotected ? Why should she not be here? 

Thor was used to seeing Midgard as strange. He had adjusted fairly well, but in his mind, Asgard was normality. It was disconcerting to see it through Jane's eyes and even more so when he did not know what had been said in Jane's hearing before he had arrived. 

He must have fallen asleep, because the alarm jerked him awake. Automatically he recognised it - a call to arms to the dungeons. He had come across on the Bifrost with a group of prisoners, a foul reckless bunch who would take any opportunity to strike at Asgard. They doubtless had found a way. As he sat up and his armor formed around him, Jane stirred and half-opened her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. 

"I must go, there is trouble in the dungeons. I will lock the door and set a guard outside. You will be perfectly safe here. Rest." 

Jane smiled and touched his cheek. "Be careful," she said. 

Thor kissed the tips of her fingers. Before he went through the door he looked back. She was already asleep. 

* * *

The sound of the alarm penetrated the library, but Loki gave it no mind. There were sufficient guards to contain the prisoners and he was running out of time. 

Containing the Aether was not difficult. It was not the first time Asgard had sought to control Infinity Stones as the artefacts crafted from fragments of other universes were named. But having the container did not tell him how to fill it. What was written about the battle on Svartalfheim was fragmentary: the accounts spoke of the Aether obeying the king, Maelkith, but not _how_. Loki ran a hand over his eyes. Perhaps he had not learned enough after all. 

Ironically it had only been Odin who realized how Loki was bound. Loki had stayed out of the way when the king hastened into the Halls to see Frigga. But there was no avoiding him after. Odin imperiously crooked a finger and vanished into a empty alcove. Cursing under his breath, Loki joined him. 

The king wasted no time. "I know you want no thanks of mine, yet I must thank you." Loki, left speechless, could only stare at Odin. The old man had a tear in his eye. Perhaps he had some humanity after all. 

Odin nodded as if Loki had spoken an acknowledgement out loud. "Know too that I understand your actions today, as little as I approved of them. Now, go to your mother. She wishes to see you. Bring her joy." 

Loki nodded, still wary. "I shall see her and talk with her, and then return to the library, if you permit it." 

Odin raised his eyebrows. "If you think it necessary." He paused. "How do you find yourself so bound? The task set for you may be an impossible one." 

Loki did not wish to admit it, but it was the best way to close the conversation. "Carelessness," he said. "Neither I nor the mortal who bound me knew what was being asked of me." 

Odin nodded. "An dishonor it will be, but not a serious one. It _was_ an oath to a mortal, after all." 

Loki was shaken from his reverie as a huge vibration ran through the palace, sending the precariously stacked books on the table flying. Loki stood, head angled to one side, listening. This could not be the prisoners. This must be something else. 

His uneasiness transformed into certainty without any pause for reflection. Could this really be coincidence? The Dark Elves lived and they had come to take their own. 

He left the useless papers behind, using his power to step directly into his room. It was as he had left it, silent, lined with the leather covers of books, furnished in dark woods softened with furs. He took swords and daggers from their place in an instant, then stepped again directly into Thor's rooms. 

His guess had been correct, thank the Nine. Instead of seeking out the quarters doubtless allocated to Jane, Thor had brought her to his own. A quick tour around the room revealed the glass shutters were barred and the door locked. Next he needed to wake Jane - carefully. Loki had no intention of being attacked by the Aether a second time. 

His repeated soft calls and increasingly urgent shaking of the bed finally roused Jane. She frowned at him. "Loki? What are you doing here?" 

"You are in danger," Loki hissed intensely. "I will protect you, but you must do as I say." 

He did not have to wait long. A bare five minutes after he had arrived the doors opened, revealing the body of a guard sprawled across the corridor outside. With slow deliberation a figure stepped over the outflung arm and into the room. He had advanced five paces before the dim light fell on his face, revealing him to be a Dark Elf. A glance from Loki sent the figure of Jane scurrying towards the bathing chamber. Loki moved casually between the elf and his quarry, as if he was unaware he was covering her retreat. 

"Might I inquire who is invading this lady's private quarters?" Loki asked, for all the world as if he was mildly curious, and not in a battle stance. 

The figure looked him up and down. "I am Malekith, and I would have what is mine. Stand aside." 

Loki shrugged. A foolish mortal phrase came to his mind. "Finders keepers," and Loki swirled into battle, two deadly blades moving towards Maelkith's face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is still worried, Frigga is perfectly safe. Honest. 
> 
> She absolutely can see what's coming. You can see it in the movie - Frigga was protecting Jane before anyone else knew Jane especially needed protecting. What Frigga saw coming in this timeline was completely different. 
> 
> Oh, and in the movie timeline, she died at the moment she fainted in this one. Jane's delay in getting to Asgard meant the Dark Elves arrived on Asgard later than in the movie timeline.


	15. Flight

* * *

The revolt in the jail had been put down. Small groups were sent to round up stragglers, while the main body of warriors headed by Odin and Thor entered the Throne Room. 

The place had been devastated. Dust filled the air and the smell of blood was strong. Ancient carvings were rubble on the floor and the pillars felled, clearly by the huge ship of alien design which now dominated the room. Bodies were strewn everywhere. With sickened heart, Thor realized most wore the uniform of the Einherjar. But there was no time to think or mourn. Though the smoke shadowy figures brought the group under heavy fire. 

The warriors scrambled to counter-attack. Thor took a stance ready to throw his hammer only for Odin to step before him. A blast flew from Gungir, throwing down an attacker. "These are Dark Elves," Odin said over his shoulder. "Defend Jane Foster or all is lost." 

Thor did not stop to think, blugeoning his way through the attackers, then taking to his heels as they pursued him. When he reached the corridor the dead guards outside his room only confirmed his worst fears. He walked softly to the open door. There was a sound like a blow, and a voice echoed from the room, harsh and demanding. 

"Where is she?" 

Loki's voice came back in reply, light and deliberately infuriating. "I should have killed you when I had the chance, if only for your lack of manners. Ask _nicely_." 

"Your armor is unbalanced," the harsh voice replied calmly. "It exposes your left side." Thor twirled in the door to see Loki held from behind by a monster. Thor could give it no better name than that. The creature held Loki fast, one arm holding Loki's fast behind him, one leg locking his feet and legs in place. It was groping under Loki's leather armored coat, its hand invisible against Loki's shoulder. Loki's face was drawn with pain, his teeth clenched to prevent any sound from escaping. In front of him, gloating up into Loki's face and apparently enjoying his suffering, was a Dark Elf. 

Thor once again attacked without thinking. He roared, his fury and fear focusing the electrical energy in the room into Mjolnir, and then out again as a lightning bolt straight at the Dark Elf. It struck home blackening one side of the Dark Elf's face. As he fell, the monster dropped Loki and reached for its master. It started moving towards the window as Thor lifted his hammer back and sent it flying across the room. The hammer hit home, but bounced off the creature's back. The monster did not even slacken its pace. It crashed straight through the closed glass shutters, onto the balcony outside and over the balustrade. By the time Thor was outside looking over the rail, they had vanished into the night. The only clue to their disappearance was a dark shape moving against the stars. More ships. How did they arrive without any warning? 

Thor dropped on one knee beside Loki. "Are you hurt?" he asked urgently. "I will bring you to Eir..." 

Loki wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and looked up at his brother, holding up his bloodstained fingers to hush him. "I am well enough," he said. "And I swear by the root of Yggdrasil, I will not face Eir a third time today. I have healing stones, they will suffice." 

"Where is Jane?" Thor demanded. Loki looked over Thor's shoulder and Thor swung around to see the lid of his weapons chest lifting. At first he could see nothing, but then the light shimmered and Jane was running to him. He opened his arms and as she fell into them held her tight as if he would never let her go.

* * *

It might have been worse. It had been the middle of the night, so the palace was comparatively empty: in the day the halls would have been thronged with petitioners, visitors, servants and onlookers. The attack on Thor's quarters had left two guards dead, a small loss compared to the annihilation of the Einherjar stationed in the dungeons and the Throne Room. But the Dark Elves could easily have have laid waste to the palace and all sleeping within. Asgard was exposed, the force shield damaged and troops would need to be recalled from fighting the marauders. It might have been worse but it was still bad enough. 

"The funerals will be tonight," Thor told Jane gently. The new day was clear and warm, a breeze ruffling their hair as they stood together on the balcony. The glass shutters were folded away, with nothing to remind of the horrors of the night past. "We hold such ceremonies as darkness falls. We will remember the fallen, thank them and celebrate them." 

A messenger arrived as they spoke together, waiting for Thor's acknowledgement. "The king requests your presence, your highness," he said when Thor turned to him. 

Jane waved him away. "I'm fine, honest. Go." One last swift kiss, one smile over his shoulder and Thor left her standing in the sunlight, blossoms blooming about her. 

When Thor entered the king's rooms, Loki was already there waiting. Thor studied him, looking for signs of injury. After this, Thor decided, Loki will go and see Eir, like it or no. But all such thoughts flew out of his head when Odin entered the room and spoke. 

"I have taken Jane Foster into custody." 

"What!" Thor rose to his feet. "When? I only just left her side!" 

"I am aware," said Odin, very calmly. "I thought that was the wisest course." 

"So she is your prisoner now," said Thor, suddenly deadly still. Loki, seated and watching in silence, was reminded of Thor and Odin's last conflict which ended in Thor's banishment. Thor had all the passion he had then, but now he was master of it. 

"I have no desire to fight with you," Odin said. "But the Aether must be contained. If the Dark Elves win it, all is lost." 

Loki suddenly tasted a despair he had buried, a despair laced with anger. "Shall you lock her in the Vault with the other relics?" His voice was soft but deep and Thor could hear the dark undercurrent in it. He did not understand what Loki meant but Odin plainly did. 

"Did I say that?" Odin's voice was staccato, hinting at some deep emotion, some old unresolved conflict he had with Loki. "What would you have me do?" 

Thor spoke quickly. "I will pursue Malekith." 

Odin wheeled to face Thor, his calm shattered by the exchange with Loki. "To what end? We have the Aether. He will come to us." 

"And slaughter us?" Thor's mouth twisted with the memories of the past night. "I’ll take Jane to the Dark World and draw the enemy away from Asgard. When Malekith pulls the Aether from Jane, it will be exposed and vulnerable, and I will destroy it and him." 

Odin glanced from Thor to Loki. Loki was staring into space, to all appearances in a world of his own. Odin returned his attention back to Thor. "And if you fail? You risk this weapon falling into the hands of our enemies." 

"The risk is far greater if we do nothing!" 

"If and when he comes, we will be waiting! His men will fall on ten thousand Asgardian blades!" 

"And how many of our men shall fall on theirs?" 

A sound cracked through the room, the sound of a fist striking wood. Silenced briefly, the king and his son turned to Loki, who sat motionless, his fist clenched on the table. He looked up at them, calm as if no blow had been struck. His voice was equally calm and quiet. "The king is right, Thor. You risk saving Asgardian lives only to lose them, along with the lives of all living things in the Nine Realms." Thor stood frozen with shock, arms by his side, mouth open. Loki looked to Odin. "Yet keeping the Aether here, we may lose Asgardian lives with the end outcome the same. We need to find another way." 

Odin nodded curtly. "Very well. Until another way is found Jane Foster shall remain in my custody, under guard." 

Loki nodded absently in reply, his face distant once again. Thor straightened and looked his father in the eye. "If we sacrifice our own, how are we better than Maelkith?" 

Odin returned his stare. "You underestimate us. We prevailed before, we shall again." 

After Odin left, Loki broke out of his reverie. "You want to have words with me," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Come to my rooms. You may berate me there." 

Thor paused when he entered Loki's study. "I have not been here since..." and he stopped, because the last time was before his cancelled coronation. He sat down in his accustomed place and raised his eyebrows at Loki. "Well?" 

Loki sat gracefully on the wooden settle across from him, and leaned forward intently. "Do you truly think you can destroy the Aether when Bor could not?" 

Thor was silent. Unerringly Loki had put his finger on the one thing Thor doubted. "I am not certain of it. All I know is that we cannot wait for the Dark Elves to strike again. They could be over our heads right now, we would never even know it." 

Loki nodded and said nothing, waiting. Thor took the initiative. "How long must we try to find another way before condemning Asgardians to death? You saw what they did, how many were killed..." 

Loki tilted his head. The hint of amusement returned. "Oh, I have another way already. So, going by Odin's words, we have every right to remove Jane from his custody." 

* * *

Darcy sighed. It had seemed so straightforward when they had headed out this morning. They had documents showing Erik's association with Stark Industries and Darcy's SI authorisation (real). They had a birth cert and letters showing the connection between Jon Palmer and Erik (forged). But the staff of the mental facility were dragging their feet.

Jon Palmer leaned over the counter. "I appreciate your concern for your patients. I understand that I'm not exactly what you were expecting Erik Selvig's son to be." Darcy quickly closed her open mouth and leaned against the counter to listen. Her side-kick seemed to be striking out on his own. 

"He met my mother as a post-grad student in Imperial College. She always said he swept her off her feet. He was only here a year, and it wasn't until he was back in Sweden that Mum found out she was pregnant with me. They stayed in touch for a while, but then they just drifted apart. Different worlds, you know?" The man behind the counter was spellbound. So was Darcy. This guy knew how to tell a story, emotion running deep in his voice. 

"I blamed him for that for a long time. I didn't even look for him until Mum died. It was...strange when we finally met. But we did meet, we talked, we started building some kind of a relationship." He hit the counter and Darcy and the guy behind the desk jumped. "It's fragile, but it's real. And I _will not_ allow _my_ father to stay in here one moment more than he has to!" 

"Oh my God," Darcy breathed to Jon as they left. Erik was arm-in-arm with her on her right, a huge bag of meds clutched tight and Jon was to her left, carrying a large bundle of what looked like the offspring of a tent pole and Jane's scientific doodad. "What _was_ that?" 

"Getting things moving," Jon said. He shifted the poles in his hands as they started beeping. 

Darcy would have grilled him further, but Erik had stopped dead. "Look," he said. 

Something was gliding across the sky, something huge and alien and scaly. Before Darcy could even start to panic about alien invasion, it winked out as if it had never been. 

"Did you see that?" asked Erik, his eyes fixed and staring at the now empty sky. 

Darcy touched his hand, and when he turned to her looked back with wide eyes. "Yes! What the hell WAS that? Where did it go?" 

Over her shoulder, Jon nodded. "You're not seeing things, Dr Selvik. Your poles have stopped beeping," he added. 

"It works!" Erik muttered and a grin slowly widened across his face. 

"Why are you smiling?" Darcy asked. 

Erik's smile was broad, a smile that looked like his first in a long time. "There’s nothing more reassuring than realizing that the world is crazier than you are." 

* * *

Thor could have liberated Jane from her imprisonment. It would have been complicated, requiring assistance (unavailable since the Warriors Three and Sif were still on Muspelheim) and the connivance of Heimdall (for which he would rather not ask.) With Loki involved, with _magic_ , it was much easier. The plan was for Loki to get into the room in the shape of one of the guards, then spirit Jane away to the lakeshore where Thor waited with a skiff, shielded by magic from Heimdall. The trip by magic would weaken Jane, Loki warned, and could not be done again while the Aether was inside her. Listening to the water lapping against the side of the flying boat, Thor found himself wondering why he had not made more use of Loki's skills when he had them, a question which he could easily answer. Because he had not valued Loki or his skills then. Because he had been a fool. 

Still, he chafed at the wait. It was a relief when Loki and Jane appeared on the shore beside him. Jane blew out the breath she was holding and looked across at Thor with glowing eyes, but she was having trouble standing. Loki, supporting her easily, sought out Thor's eyes communicating his concern. Jane could not last much longer. 

Thor took Jane in his arms, placing her gently on a bed of rugs at the stern of the boat. Loki leaped in and took the tiller. He was back in the armor he had worn attempting to invade Midgard, Thor realized, looking him up and down. Loki grinned. "When I'm committing treason, I like to dress the part." 

Loki coaxed the last ounce of speed from the light flying skiff. The speed did not bother Thor who flew even faster dragged by Mjolnir. The path they were taking, directly towards a mountain slope, did. He glanced at Loki, who was clearly enjoying himself and whose eyes were fixed on a narrow cave that was certainly too small for the skiff. 

Loki's gaze did not waver, but he was clearly aware of the look Thor was giving him. He spoke without taking his eyes off his goal. "If it were easy, everyone would do it." 

Thor was not ashamed to admit he closed his eyes, just for an instant, as they hit. The skiff barely scraped through the mouth of the cave, striking sparks against the interior. If anything Loki's speed increased. The sparks grew more numerous, the crystals embedded in the cave walls glowed brighter, and just as Thor suspected he could see the back of the cave...they were flying through blackness with a circle of grey light before them. The skiff burst out into the open, losing height and bouncing onto black sands framed by distant gaunt mountains under a sulphurous sky that never knew full sunlight. The tepid wind blasted exposed skin with black grit. 

Jane was still under the rugs. Thor covered her shoulder and she turned her head briefly to acknowledge him before returning her gaze into space. Loki had already left the tiller to slide to the bottom of the skiff, lying flat among the rugs there. Thor took control without a word and launched the skiff back into the sky. They still had a long way to go, and prying eyes to guard against. 

Hidden among the rugs, Loki felt the familiar melancholy sweep over him. Every time he came here it was the same: the thrill of success followed by the melancholy invoked by the desolation of the place. The wind sang of beauty lost, of promise wasted, of great aims defeated and of life turned to death. But the wind's voice was full of wistful despair, not anger. It was not unpleasant. 

They went on in silence, Loki catching glimpses of the great battlegrounds, of ruined ships lying like toys scattered by a spoiled child and of cities broken and dead. Every so often he reached out with his magic, seeking the best place for the encounter to come. 

Turning his head, he could dimly see Jane. She had stopped moving, her eyes still and staring. In the dead light they looked black. 

"She will die," he said softly. He felt rather than saw Thor react, moving to look at Jane then staring out at the sky. 

"Giving up so soon?" Thor sighed, then spoke again. "I will never admit defeat." 

"Nor I," Loki said, his voice barely audible above the wind. "I am sworn to save her. But in the end, one day or a hundred years, she will die. How can you bear it?" He could remember the lurch his heart gave when Frigga fainted, his certainty that without her all would be ashes like the planet below. 

Thor paused, then spoke. "Who knows our fate? I will live, and hope, and love. I can do no other. Surrender is not in my nature." 

Silence fell in the skiff once more. Loki restricted himself to single-word directions until Thor spoke again. "Jane?" 

Loki turned his head under the blankets. Jane was moving, turning her face up into the sky. "Malekith," she said. 

Thor following her gaze saw a huge dark shape looming through the clouds. "We land?" Loki knew the question was directed at him. 

A twist of his fingers and Loki was invisible. He slid free from the blankets to stand by his brother's side. "Left," he said softly to Thor. "Swiftly, they are coming." 

As Thor landed the skiff in the middle of a great plain of sand they could see the dust swept up by the great ship landing in the distance. Thor gave the mountain behind them a swift glance, then looked back to the dust cloud. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Loki's voice replied. "This is the part I don't like." 

"Have you got a better idea?" Thor asked, lifting Jane out of the skiff. 

"No," and Loki's sigh was lost in the wind. "I merely hope Maelkith can believe you to be this stupid." 

Thor grinned and looked as if he wanted to clap Loki on the shoulder. "You forget, brother. This part _was_ my plan." 

Thor set off across the sand, Jane supported by his arm. Only a very observant watcher would have noticed that the footsteps Thor left in the sand grew a little deeper a few moments after Thor left them. 

As the dust in the air cleared, a small group of Dark Elves could be seen approaching. Both groups stopped a few yards apart. Thor spoke first, bowing courteously, but with his hammer ready in his fist ready to defend Jane standing half-hidden behind him. "To Maelkith, King of Svartelfheim, greetings. I wish to make you an offer." 

Maelkith rose his head, his proud face half pale, half blackened like the mountains around them. "You have what belongs to me. We will remain at war until it is returned to me." 

Thor nodded. "We are at war. But this lady is not." He stepped to one side to show Jane who was standing as straight and proud as Thor himself. Thor felt a pang of loving pride. This had to work, come what may. "She is of Midgard, she has no part in our conflict. Remove the Aether from her and let her live." 

"You will let me keep it?" The Dark Elf's voice was sceptical. 

"No!" Thor boomed. "I shall battle you to destroy it." 

"Alone?" said Maelkith, and when Thor did not reply, "You are very confident, Son of Odin, spawn of Bor." 

"I have good reason," said Thor, tightening his grip on the hammer. Maelkith's eyes were drawn to the movement. He looked back into Thor's face and the corners of his mouth turned up for an instant. 

"Very well," and the Dark Elf king bowed. "The Midgardian will not be harmed. I make no other promises." 

He waved a hand and Jane rose into the air. As she rose, her hair and clothing drifted outward, floating in the air as if in water. She drifted into the space between Thor and the Dark Elves, and the Aether flowed from her eyes and mouth, flowing around her in an unearthly dance. The streams stopped and Jane fell between the crimson clouds to the sands below. 

No sooner had she touched them then she felt a hand on hers. She held her breath and found herself beside the skiff once more. "When you can, go to the mountain." Loki's voice was urgent. "Enter the cave there. It will bring you back to Midgard." 

"Loki, he's going to bring it to Earth!" but the only reply Jane got was the whisper of the wind. Jane sighed and looked longingly back across the sands. Even at this distance, she could see Thor, a tiny silver figure battling swirling red vapour. 

At first Thor believed he was victorious. The clouds shattered as he rained blows on them, apparently partially annihilated. He had no time to consider why the Elves merely watched, until he paused and saw in that moment the fragments of mist thickening, sliding together and coalescing. He tried again, avoiding the double of Jane apparently recovering on the ground, trying even after he knew that he had failed, battling until he was exhausted and could battle no more. 

Maelkith smiled a slow smile, apparently enjoying Thor's defeat. He raised a hand and the red clouds flowed together, joining in terrible unity. "You have lost, Spawn of Bor!" But the pause to speak was his undoing. Before his eyes the Aether was sucked into nothingness and vanished. He turned wide eyes on Thor, who lifted his head, shrugged then vanished. Maelkith stood for an moment, shocked, and then screamed at his men. "AFTER THEM!" 

Jane had only just started to walk when she heard a faint noise. She turned to find Thor striding over the sands toward her. As their hands touched, both wrists were gripped in an invisible grip, and they were suddenly at the foot of blackened crags, in front of a cave opening. 

"This was not the plan!" Thor protested. "I am supposed to..." 

"What good is your blood on the sand to me?" Loki's disembodied voice was impatient. "Go, take care of her, fulfil my oath!" 

Although he could not see him, Thor knew that Loki was not waiting for an answer. He disobeyed his brother by watching for a moment to see the distant skiff rising above the sands. Behind it, Harrow Ships were already in the skies. "Hel's Mouth," Thor muttered. But the skiff was faster, darting away and keeping its distance from the dark ships in its wake. 

"Thor?" Jane's face was puckered in concern when Thor turned to her. "Malekith plans to bring the Aether to Earth. I saw it when he took it out of me. He wants to destroy everything!" 

"Not if Loki can help it," and Thor took one last look at the glint of gold in the dark sky, before following Jane into the cave. 

* * *

Asgard was powerful, advanced and wise. In that lay its weakness. The people of Asgard breathed in their superiority to the other Realms with the scented air, and none more so than the royal house. And so it came to be that Odin could believe in all sincerity that his warriors would prevail despite their blood coating the Throne Room floor. Thor was wiser in being more humble, but even so, could still believe in in the power of the Hammer Bor had made and in his ability to destroy the Aether though Bor could not.

Loki knew he was not immune. Had he not agreed to take the future of the Nine Realms on his shoulders if Thor failed? But he asked for much less than Thor or Odin. They wanted to win. All Loki wanted was not to lose. 

Instead of winning final victory against the Dark Elves, or once and for all destroying the Aether, Loki was content to keep the Infinity Stone from them. After the Convergence the pursuit would most likely end and the Dark Elves vanish once more. If it did not,Loki might die but others would have five thousand years to retrieve the Aether. Here and now, Loki would not have lost - Jane would live. 

Loki skimmed over the surface, the skiff angling as close as he dared towards the gateway he planned to use. As the skiff passed between two rocks he leaped out lightly, landing on thick sand and rolling to find cover. The skiff went on. A few moments later, so did the Harrow Ships. It would take some time before they caught up. Loki's lips drew into a smile and he slipped further around the rock and onto a path. 

That path led to what looked like rock formations carved by the wind, set among flat sands. It was, in fact, the ruins of what must once have been a fine house, surrounded by gardens. Loki picked his way quickly to one broad rock face, about six feet wide, and ten feet tall. If you used your imagination, the narrow outcrop at ground level in front of it looked like a threshold to a door some 3 feet wide, and if you looked hard at the dark stone, there were bumps and indentations that might once have been the carved border to a door. But where the door should be was blank stone. 

Loki, who knew the place well, did not stop to look. He pulled a leather notebook from the small pocket dimension he could access via the pouch at his waist. From the notebook he pulled a dried flower. With a touch and a word it sprang back to life, its blue vivid and alive against the yellow sky and dark rocks. He laid it on the threshold and spoke a word in the ancient language of Vanaheim: "Soft!" As he spoke he stepped forward and in an instant the world changed from black sand and sighing wind to green grass, trees and birdsong. He was once again standing amid ruins, but these were grey stones softened by lichen and veiled by shrubs and trees. The carvings were clearer here, preserved by magic by generations of Vanir. Loki took a moment to take in the carving of flowers that were extinct before he was born, and the words cut over the portal in the language of the Dark Elves: _Speak Soft And Walk Far_. At his feet, more blue flowers bloomed. He picked one and put it into the notebook before putting it away, pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and moved off as quickly as he dared. 

He might have eluded the Dark Elves, but this forest was deep inside the territory the Marauders claimed as their own to raid and pillage. It would be best if he was not seen or heard, and with his magic almost spent he would have to reply on his other skills. 

* * *

Maelkith paused, his head tilting as if listening to the ever whispering wind. The wind spoke to him of his failure to free his people from the flesh that trapped them, and separated them from their kin when flesh failed them. He would not fail them again.

"The Aether is now on Vanaheim," the king said. His eyes narrowed as he looked around at his warriors who gathered closer. "I smell the stink of foul magics. It is the warlock princeling who seeks to keep the Aether from us. But he will fail. He is one...and we are many!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is straying into fix-it fic territory :-) I'm convinced that the fake-out on Svartalfheim we saw in _Thor: The Dark World_ was Loki's plan (after he said "trust my rage") - I can't see the Thor who broke Loki out of the dungeons trusting him enough before that point. So Thor's plan _has_ has to have been to just to get the Aether out of Jane and destroy it, as he said to Odin. As Loki points out here, both Thor and Odin's plans have serious flaws. In my head, Loki has travelled far enough from the Asgardian mindset to see an plan beyond beating the Dark Elves in battle. 
> 
> Oh, and parallels between Loki and Jane. Loki is still suspicious that he was primarily a "relic" for Odin, something to be of future use. Jane is a pawn in the same way here. 
> 
> The change in timeline means the attack of the Dark Elves was less deadly, and obviously, Frigga didn't die. But how very Thor-like of her (in _Dark World_ ) to proudly say she will not tell. Loki would never tell either, but he likes to keep his cards close to his chest (not to mention irritate Maelkith!) I rather like that Frigga-Thor link (but I prefer Frigga not dying at all.)


	16. Endurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could set up a posting schedule or just post more regularly, but it's not possible at the moment. Work is just too much. Shoutout to Bergamotte for the kick in the pants which helps!
> 
> Hope you enjoy and sorry for any mistakes (no beta).

"Things fall apart: the centre cannot hold," said Jon softly. Jane had just finished explaining what was coming. 

A shiver went down Darcy's spine. Part of her was amazed she was taking this so calmly. But it all felt unreal. Lack of sleep was part of it. Exhaustion made the world feel like it was wrapped in invisible cotton wool. 

Erik had started talking about blood-rimmed tides. 

She had been thrilled when Jane came back, but it hadn't occurred to her that Thor would come back as well. She'd hugged Jane when Jon ushered them into the kitchen after collecting them from the warehouse. She'd then looked awkwardly at Thor. She didn't know how to talk to him after _everything_ so she'd asked him how space was. Like she barely knew him. Face palm. 

It also hadn't occurred to her that Loki might not come back. Jane told her when Erik was out of earshot that Loki had saved her, had taken the Aether and was now trying to keep one step ahead of the Dark Elves. Darcy wasn't sure how she felt about that. Sure, she felt a lump of worry in the pit of her stomach, but she wasn't sure if she was more worried about Loki or for him. His track record with powerful gizmos wasn't _fantastic_. 

But worrying didn't help. Jane was better. They'd get through this. She could manage. If Tony could operate on no sleep, she could. 

Tony was going to be so pissed when he heard about all this. 

Darcy tuned back in. Erik was still talking. "...sensitives with access to realities beyond..." 

"Where's the centre and why can't we hold it?" Darcy was too damn tired to listen to another lecture and it was time to cut to the chase. They needed to decide what to _do_. 

Jon opened his mouth but Jane, eyes wide, was already speaking. "Yes, and then with rising excitement. "YES, Darcy. That's good. The Realms pivot, more or less, before Convergence. Right?" She appealed to Thor on her left, who nodded. "There's got to be a focal point. That must be where Maelkith plans to use the Aether!" 

Erik nodded, eyes distant. "Of course!" He snapped into focus and drew several lines onto the board, linking the circles labelled with names of the various Realms. The mustard-coloured kilt swayed around him as he wrote. Darcy didn't know where Jon had got the kilt from, but it was SO much better than the alternative. "It would amplify the weapon’s impact. For each additional world, the power will increase exponentially." He stabbed thicker lines onto the board. "The effect would be universal!"

"So where's that?" Darcy said, pushing away the thought of _what_ would be universal. "The focus point?" 

Erik looked at her thoughtfully, as if it might be her. Then his face lit up with a new idea. "This has happened before, thousands of years ago, and _the Ancients were there to see it!_ " He burrowed in the pile of papers on the table and pulled out a largescale map of the UK. "All the great constructions, the Mayans, the Chinese, the Egyptians. They made use of the gravitational effects of the Convergence. And they left us a map." 

First Jane and then the others stood and leaned over the map as Erik muttered under his breath, joining features in lines that extended towards the south-west. "Stonehenge, Snowden, the Great Orme....coordinates taking us…here."

"Greenwich?" said Jon, with a hint of scepticism in his voice. 

Jane had her hand to her mouth. "Even if Maelkith doesn't get the Aether, we have a problem. Physics is going to go ballistic, right here in London. Increases and decreases in gravity, spatial extrusions…" 

"So what do we _do_?" said Darcy. She didn't know what the words meant, but it sounded bad. Very bad. 

"We can use these," and Erik pointed towards the bundle of high-tech tent poles stacked in the corner. "We put them up to stabilise the event." 

Jane nodded. "And we can do more than that, with a little tinkering..." She crossed the room to examine the poles. 

Jon watched her go then turned back to the rest. "Look, if this is all real and as serious as you say, we need manpower." 

Thor spoke for the first time. "If Maelkith obtains the Aether, it might be more serious yet." 

"Tony and the gang are still away wherever," Darcy said, looking at a spot somewhere between Thor and Jane. 

Jane half-turned and spoke over her shoulder. "We have to call SHIELD. It's okay now." In the corner of Darcy's eye, Thor nodded. 

"Okey-dokey," said Darcy. "I just hope they believe us." 

"They will, if the right person tells them," Jon said. "I think it's time to ask Ms Potts for assistance." 

* * *

He sensed it before he consciously noticed the signs. The birdsong had died away. There were occasional broken branches, patches where grass had been scraped from the soil by desperate combat and, if one paused and looked closely, spots of blood. It screamed _ambush_ , but not Marauders. They would have let the bodies lie. 

Loki's suspicions were confirmed when slipping quietly through the wood, he found the clearing. No natural space this: the gap in the branches was fifteen feet wide just over Loki's head height, tapering away eight feet above his head. It was as if brush, saplings, leaves and branches had been neatly wrenched out of existence. Which was probably what had happened. Loki had seen the remains of the golden throne in Asgard, damaged in much the same way. 

Motionless within the fringe of trees, Loki head a chirp. It was answered by another and into his mind flashed the memory of an old warrior tale, told around a campfire under glowing Midgardian stars. It had been a eerie story of how the Dark Elves hunted their enemies, and the warriors had laughed (not unkindly) when Loki, then little more than a child, had started at shadows returning to his tent. So, the story was true. The Dark Elves had guessed where he was going, signalling each other as they moved through the forest, clearing away complications like Marauders as they went. 

Loki knew he had underestimated them. As a people who harnessed gates and black holes, he should have expected them to work out his plan quickly. But there was no other way: trying for another gate on Vanaheim would almost guarantee his capture. He would have to go to the Gate House as planned. 

He had hoped to avoid using his magic again so soon but it could not be helped. With a thought and a twitch of his fingers he was invisible. Unseen, without a leaf's tremble to betray his passing, he covered the last ten or so miles to the Gate House. Only when the building was visible through the trees did he glide to a halt. Silently he slipped into the depths of a thicket, sat cross-legged and used his Sight. He could not take long. The longer he had spent in the forest, the better the Dark Elves seemed to be at tracking him. 

The gate to Svartalfheim had been preserved due to its beauty. The Gate House was preserved due to its value. It was a windowless circular building with a low pitched conical roof and a single door-opening in one side. Built of rough lichened grey stone, it blended into the grey bark of the trees around it. But the very stones were steeped in magic from a time before the Vanir abandoned their great cities and schools of lore. The creatures of the forest sensed its power and avoided it. 

Inside, the ancient stone walls enclosed a stone circle that was even older. At internals primeval upright stones supporting an upright were set into the circular enclosing wall. One set of stones formed an entrance from the forest, seven others framed bare stone wall. But the eighth stones framed wall that shimmered faintly. Loki could See that the circular stone basin on a pedestal in the center of the circle was empty and untouched. Clearly one of the gates was being kept open from the other side. Three Elves waited in the room itself, with who knew how many among the trees. 

Loki had thought through routes between the branches of Yggdrasil even before Odin told them he had arrested Jane. With Maelkith seemingly able to sense the Aether, Loki had known he could not stay on a single Realm for long, and since he did not know the gate locations well, he had to move physically between them. The need to avoid Asgard, Midgard and populated areas limited his choices further. What he had Seen now made a single destination the obvious choice: the gate that was open. Muspelheim.

Loki sat until he had planned his every move, and made contingency plans for everything he could think of. Nothing could be left to chance. 

* * *

"To Hel with this heat!" 

Fandral looked across with amusement at Volstagg. His own moustaches drooped and Sif's hair hung in limp tails around her face. But Volstagg was suffering most, with sweat pouring down his red face. Only Hogan seemed relatively unaffected. 

"Whose idea was it to come so far south?" Fandral asked innocently. Teasing Volstagg would distract from the temperature. In truth, this was the coolest part of Muspelheim. A land of desert, rocks and strange inedible plants that needed no water, it was possible for beings other than Fire Demons to survive here. With no natural water and the enduring heat only outlaws and outcasts made the attempt. Some whispered that Surtur welcomed their presence, banking on their potential to destabilise the other Realms. But equally likely was that he did not care: no Marauder could hope to attack Surtur's people on the fire plains further south or reach Sutur's palace set amid lava pools and fire flowers. 

Volstagg threw him a dirty look. "Would you rather have stayed in camp? It's even hotter there!" 

"Those were our orders," Sif said. She had been almost as quiet as Hogan since Thor had left suddenly and without explanation. She knew, they all knew, that Thor's heart had been elsewhere throughout this campaign. 

"Foolish!" Volstagg huffed. "Asgard was attacked - this is not the time to sit idle! We should be sending out scouts, not skulking..." 

"Hush!" said Hogan, throwing up a hand. Instantly the other three froze, bodies crouched ready for combat. Hogan tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and pointed as the faintest of sounds came from a ravine on their right. 

Softly, the group made their way to the mouth of the ravine and peered around. Unfortunately they were spotted immediately. Volstagg, who had headed the group, pushed them back around the corner as the two figures opened fire. 

"Hel's Mouth!" swore Volstagg, and as the others looked at him in surprise, "Dark Elves!" 

"Moving up the ravine," Fandral added, as he peeked around the corner, earning another blast for his pains. 

Sif took charge. "We take them." She gestured, her hands suggesting a plan of attack, and Volstagg nodded in appreciation. Another hand signal and each warrior took his place. 

The Dark Elves advanced slowly out of the ravine to see Volstagg and Fandral apparently in deep conversation. 

"But they can't be, old man," said Fandral. "They died out." 

"Odin's Beard, they _are_! If you talked to old warriors instead of young serving maids, you might know more!" Volstagg pushed his colleague in the shoulder. 

"You underestimate how much young serving maids have to teach..." 

The Dark Elves exchanged glances, moved forward out of the ravine and aimed, only for each to be knocked on the head by Sif and Hogun, who were flattened against the cliff wall waiting for them. 

"A good distraction," Sif called across at the other pair. "Listening to you, _I_ almost lost the will to fight." She nudged a Dark Elf with her toe. 

"What were they doing?" Fandral asked as he and Volstagg walked over. He didn't ask why the Elves were here. Somehow, all four knew that this had something to do with Thor's rapid departure, and knew the others knew. 

"Nothing good," Volstagg rumbled. He picked up a rock and threw it down the ravine. The ground shimmered and shook, knocking the four off their feet. They picked themselves up and looked with shock at the huge crater revealed as the dust cleared. 

"We should go on," Volstagg said. "Who knows how many more..." 

"No," said Sif. She met Volstagg's surprised look. "I want to, by the Nine. But we can help Thor most by bringing these back to camp and learning more." 

"She's right, Volstagg," Fandral said gently. Beside him, Hogun nodded. 

"And if he needs us," Sif added, "he will seek us there." 

On the ridge above them, none could see the Dark Elf ship, cloaked as it was. The skies of Muspelheim would not be patrolled this day. 

* * *

The soldiers were on high alert. All knew this was their best chance to capture the enemy, regain the Aether and restore the universe as it should be. Learning to track the warlock had taken time, but now they had learned his secrets, success was almost in their grasp. A series of chirps alerted the captain that the enemy had been sighted. He silently picked out five elves to follow him into the forest. The two remaining stationed themselves either side of the door of the low grey building. The three inside never stirred from their posts. 

All was quiet for a short while, then the trees rustled as a Dark Elf returned to the clearing and marched straight to the door. The two guards did not move aside, their energy weapons ready in their hands. 

"Why have you returned, Berl?" one asked. The other, more alert, was raising his weapon. 

Berl moved like lightning, grabbing the guards by their throats and slamming them hard into the wall behind them. Both slumped to the ground. Loki shifted instantly back into his own shape: surprise was gone, and he needed to move with precision. He threw himself inside the room, hands outstretched towards the basin on the pedestal. He felt the swish of a blade over his head before his hands touched the stone. He vaulted over the basin, twisting to land on his feet and thrusting the guard between him and the basin he had just leaped over. The Dark Elf shuddered as the blade meant for Loki went through him. Loki was not there to see, diving backwards as he was through the shimmering door where the heat hit him like a furnace. 

The rock under Loki's rolling body was searing against his skin. Centuries at combat made him change direction automatically, a habit that saved his life. A blast hit a glancing blow against Loki's side, kicking up grit from the rock beside him. Loki lunged away, hearing rather than seeing another blast miss. His back slammed against the huge stone cube that housed the gate, giving him some cover. Above and behind his head he heard the humming of a magical force keeping the gate open. 

Loki took his bearings. There were two Dark Elves in the open, attention and guns focused on his position. He had expected no less. He concentrated, sending his Sight behind a Dark Elf and choosing the ideal position before teleporting. Once there Loki pounced, grabbing the guard by the waist and forcing up his gun hand as a Dark Elf stepped through the gate. The guard pressed the trigger automatically, the shot taking the newly arrived guard in the chest. That was not Loki's goal, though he did not regret the result. He kept the gun moving, aiming as best he could for the the bowl on top of the obsidian cube. Loki forced the Elf's finger down on the trigger: the first shot missed, the next struck home. The bowl shattered, the shimmering light of the gate winked out and Loki knew that no more Dark Elves would be coming from Vanaheim. 

The battle with the two remaining Elves was brutal and short, a welter of desperate blows and slashing blades. Combat over, Loki took a moment to take in his surroundings. The platform of level rock on which he stood was surrounded on three sides by undulating stone rising in steep curves and painted in vivid pinks, oranges, blues and greens by the minerals they contained. Against them the dark glossy cube was starkly elegant. The land fell away on the fourth side, the side to which the gate opened. In that direction the pink sky deepened to burning orange, turning to gold on the southern horizon. 

With a thought, Loki's armor vanished. The danger from the heat was greater than that from attack. Pulling the hood of the cloak over his head, Loki walked towards the south. 

* * *

Darcy was sure that if she had rung SHIELD, she'd have been patted on the head and ignored. But Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, ringing from a Singapore morning fresh, rested and emphatic? Totally different story. SHIELD couldn't do enough when they rang the house at 5am. 

It wasn't as if Darcy was sleeping anyway. She was too _something_ to close her eyes. Excited or worried or scared or some freak cocktail of them all. 

By the time they got there SHIELD had cleared the Greenwich campus of students. As they drove past the cordon of serious looking police, Darcy looked out at old pillared buildings running down to the river. The campus was awash with SHIELD agents. Once they got out, the others got drawn in different directions. Jon was down at the lawns, holding the plans and directing SHIELD agents planting Erik's techno-poles. No-one seemed to be balking at him bossing them around. Right now Jon's insane competence was reminding Darcy of Nat. A few feet away on the pillared walk Jane and Erik were briefing SHIELD team-leaders on what to look for when physics went kablooey. Darcy had typed up the handouts that morning - now she was at a loose end, wondering how she'd ended up here. 

"The time before the battle is always difficult." For a big guy, Thor was light on his feet. Darcy almost jumped out of her skin. Thor moved beside her, joining her in looking at the activity below. "Especially for the leader who has gathered together the troops and now must worry if he has chosen well. Or she." 

Darcy folded her arms and gave him some side eye. "I'm not a leader. And I don't need a pep talk, honest." 

"You have brought us all together, have you not?" Thor's face was open and all in earnest. "Even those of us who have wronged you." 

Darcy's arms tightened into a hug and she shook her head, just a little. "Don't, okay? Not now." 

"There might be no other time," and Darcy gulped as the silence Thor left lengthened. He looked a hell of a lot calmer about why there might be no other time than she felt. 

"Look, I don't hate you, big guy," she forced out over her discomfort and dread. "I just...I can't trust you. You could have told me. You _should_ have told me. I'd have kept it on the DL." 

Thor looked confused for a moment, then his serious expression returned. "Do you hate Loki?" and oh crap there was Thor getting straight to the difficult question. He took pity on her after she'd opened and closed her mouth a few times. "The blame should fall on me, not my brother. Involving you was no choice of his." 

There was no time for either of them to say more: Jane and Eric were already crossing the terrace towards them. The team leaders walked down the steps, passing Jon on the way up, going to the groups of SHIELD agents assembled on the paths ready to be briefed. All over the campus Erik and Jane's tech sprouted like some avantgard art project. 

Jane went straight to Thor. Their hands touched and their eyes met, exchanging messages without words. Darcy felt a lump in her throat. If this was the last time...she had to tell them. Even if things weren't as they should be. 

"Look, I love you guys. It's all good, okay." Jane and Thor both turned to her, matching hopeful smiles lighting up their faces. 

"We love you too," said Erik, who grabbed her in a sudden unexpected hug. Darcy could feel the other arms encircling and just for a moment it felt like New Mexico again, and the four of them against the world. Then came a polite British _hem_. It was Jon. 

"All set up," he said, as they disentangled. 

"Now we wait," said Erik, all business again. "The readings suggest the Convergence should start at midday." 

* * *

Fortune had smiled upon him for once. He had made good time across the badlands, keeping to the shadows of the ravines and encountering no living thing. Loki had not expected his luck to last. Since when had it ever done so?

The Fire Gate was in a hollow, formed by a volcano now long dead. The pale rock carved in parallel bands by the wind served as a backdrop to the metal gate, a masterpiece of ornate stylized flames that appeared almost real. Loki recognized a product of the forges of Nidavellir. Invisible and lying prone on the rim of the crater looking down, Loki's stomach lurched. He also recognized the shape standing directly in front of the gate. 

It made sense. What else could wait in this heat for so long? It was the monster from Thor's room with the burning touch. 

He sent his Sight to the floor of the crater, circling the creature, examining every detail. He was as quick as he dared: the longer he waited, the more likely it was that Dark Elves would come. They knew where he was and they would be getting desperate. The Convergence was fast approaching. With the use of gates, it might just be possible to bring the Aether to Midgard. 

Loki made his decision. He armed himself quickly, then used his Sight again, this time stepping though to arrive at the bottom of the crater some ten feet from the gate and its guard. Invisible as he was, he must have made some small sound. The creature wheeled to face him more quickly than its bulk suggested possible. A twist of Loki's fingers and a double appeared, dressed as he was in full armor dusty from the stone plains of Muspelheim. 

"So, you heard me." Standing behind the double, Loki's insolent voice matched its lip movements perfectly. "I do not wish to hurt you. But I will if you do not step aside." 

Alas, the creature did not rush forward to attack as Loki had hoped. It put its head to one side, peering across the pale stone. Loki's skin crawled with the sudden fancy the beast could see him. But when the double moved, the creature kept its gaze on it. Loki kept one step behind the illusion, and all his wits about him. A few feet away Loki paused, allowing the double to move forward until it stopped no more than a foot from the monster. 

The creature remained motionless, passively looking at the double. Very well, Loki would have to try something else. A twist of his fingers and doubles multiplied, circling the gate. This time the monster reacted, taking a combat position half squatting like a wrestler, arms ready to grab and squeeze. But its feet remained firmly planted in position, its body blocking the gate. Loki gritted his teeth in frustration and gestured. The doubles moved and swirled, laughing in the creature's face, daring it to catch them. Mocking laughter rang from all directions. Loki moved through them, circling to come as close as he dared to the gate. 

When Loki was two feet away it moved, lightning fast despite its bulk. Its arm swept past jeering illusions, hitting at and through one standing just in front of the invisible Loki. The blow glanced against his partially healed shoulder. For the briefest instant the monster paused as if puzzled. Loki ducked away in the nick of time: the creature leaned and wiped its arm through the space where Loki had been. 

There was no time to think. Loki lurged towards the gate through the gap left as the creature leaned forward, the dwarven forged blade in his hand and the words to activate the gate on his lips. But once again the creature acted as if aware of roughly where Loki was. It snapped back into position and swiped out with one huge arm. The blow took Loki in the stomach, sending him flying into the rock face. The wind knocked from his body, Loki could feel searing pain in his shoulder as the old wound opened. Shaking off the stupor from the impact, Loki bit his lip against the pain and sprang into a defensive crouch. There was no need. The monster had moved back into position, blocking the gate once more. 

Time was running out. The creature clearly had one goal - to keep Loki from using the gate. He knew from his encounter with it in Thor's room that he could not move it, either physically or with magic. His tricks seemed equally doomed to fail. 

There was one more trick he could try. It was risky, but staying here was to guarantee failure. 

Loki concentrated and sent himself to stand beside the gate, close to the creature. An instant later, his work done, he was back across the crater. He leaned against the wall, resting his shoulder and waiting. 

The detonation was not loud, even in the silence of the crater. The creature clearly recognized the quiet metallic tone, spinning to its right as if trying to access the strange metallic eggs on his belt. But it was too late: a blinding flash of light was followed by a shock wave that engulfed the creature, then sucked everything caught in it into a central point that fluctuated and vanished. 

The gate should have survived. A thing of magic as much as of metal, crafted by dwarves in the forges of Nifhelm, it should have been proof against almost anything. It was not proof against the Dark Elf grenade. Despair in his heart, Loki walked towards the gate, its metal flames now cut rudely off at waist height and the upper section in twisted pieces on the crater floor. 

He had risked everything and lost. But as Loki approached the ruins of the gate he felt the whisper of a cold breeze, the faint non-smell of ice. The Convergence was near, with short-lived portals between the worlds forming at points of power and the soft spots near gates. He did not stop to think. Reaching out with hands and magic Loki found the path to another world and hurled himself through. 

Consciously Loki had excluded Asgard and Midgard as places to travel to. Unconsciously, he now realized, he had excluded another. Jotenheim. 

The icy wind cut through the furs intended for the snowy peaks of Nifhelm, the blast whipping white fragments from the ice plain around him. Loki had started walking the instant he arrived. There were places on Jotenheim where even its inhabitants might freeze to death. This was one of them. 

As he trudged towards nearest high point the initial painful cold faded. Drowsiness and a deceptive feeling of warm stole over him. Loki walked faster, forcing his body to move despite its protests. He knew well enough that if he stopped he would sleep, and if he slept, he would die. 

It worked. His sleepiness faded. The painful bite of cold did not return. Loki's strides grew longer as he finally reached his goal. But his euphoria was short lived as he scanned the landscape around him. 

Even for Jotenheim the place was barren: fractured ice plain as far as he could see. Not a light, not a sign of habitation of any kind. The mountains on the horizon were unfamiliar. He reached as far as he could with his magic - nothing. No gates, no soft spots, not a living thing. He was utterly lost. 

* * *

Fury took a moment to survey the faces around the table: neutral, bored, guarded, uncertain, argumentative. It had been a frustrating few days.

"Before we begin this final session," he said, "I have an announcement. At 0430 UST we were notified of a previously unknown cosmological event expected to focus on Greenwich, London in the UK. The event occurred at 1200 hours UST. For approximately one hour the laws of physics became suggestions. There was also the remote possibility of alien incursion at that time."

"What the _hell_?" started Tony, as the others shifted and exchanged glances around the table. 

" _If_ you'd be kind enough to let me finish, _Mr_ Stark." Tony subsided under the full force of Fury's sarcasm, but his glare promised trouble to come. "With technical assistance from Jane Foster and Erik Selvig, the matter was successfully contained by SHIELD UK, with additional backup from others, most notably Prince Thor." There was another stir around the table. "There appear to have been no casualties or missing persons as a result and the only incursion was an animal which has since been returned to its own Realm. All non-SHIELD personnel are currently being debriefed by Agent Coulson." Clint and Natasha exchanged glances across the table. "Questions?" 

"Why weren't we told?" Tony exploded. "We should have been there, instead of sitting here..." 

"You wouldn't have made it," Fury cut in. "Once the danger was confirmed, there wasn't enough time..." 

"For them, maybe," Tony said, rising from his seat and waving around the table. "But in the suit..." 

"Flight time of seven hours." Fury said, rising in his turn. "Unless you have something to share with the group...?" Tony tightened his lips. "If you left immediately _you_ might have arrived before the event was finished. Leaving the rest of the team behind." 

"That's not the point...", Tony started. 

Fury butted in again. "It IS the point. The Avengers shouldn't be broken up, or so I'm told. But when put to the test, you'd go off half-cocked and leave the team in the wind. If the Avengers won't work together then they'll have to work apart." 

"You want us to work apart?" Tony's voice was dangerously quiet. "Embedded in SHIELD? When you won't even tell us about events like this until it's too late? When you tell us next to nothing _now_?" 

"You want details? Ask your CEO." Fury's mouth snapped shut. Tony's open-mouthed look of shock was somewhat satisfying. Fury looked around the table. "Any other questions?" 

"Coulson's been redeployed?" Clint asked. Fury caught Natasha leaning forward in the corner of his eye. 

"Temporarily," said Fury. "For this assignment." He looked hard at Clint, and then across at Natasha. A slight eye-roll communicating _I know you know, well done, now drop it_ and Fury turned to the rest of the team. 

"I'm sure you're all as anxious to leave here as I am. So let's get started." 

* * *

Loki had set out for the distant mountains. To stop moving was to die. He fixed on a spot, teleported there, then repeated the trick until his magic was too depleted to continue. The mountains looked a less impossible goal, at least. 

The plain here was flat, an easy walk or so it seemed. He did not discover how treacherous that smooth white surface was until he found himself falling through it. The impact when he landed wrenched his injured shoulder again, but the pain was dulled by the bitter cold. 

Loki looked up at the sheer walls of the crevasse. To climb out was impossible. He had neither the equipment nor the skills. But once his magic was replenished, then he might shift into _something_ that would be able to escape. He just had to keep alive until that happened. 

At least he was out of the biting wind. Loki arranged himself so he was insulated from the ice around him, closed his eyes and meditated. When he was finally shaken out of his concentration, the light was the same dim twilight, but mingled in the sound of the wind was a voice. The faint metallic timbre told Loki it was projected, probably from a ship flying above the surface. 

"...did you accept it, being marked like a beast? Why do you fight for those who think you a brute, warlock? Why struggle..." 

Loki's eyes went wide as he understood. The growing ability of the Elves to track him, the skills of the monster: it was the tracking device. The cursed tracking device that the thrice-damned Stark had implanted under his skin of his upper arm. Shaking the clumsy fur mitten from his right hand, he grabbed a knife in his gloved fingers and stripped away the layers covering his skin. He had little enough magic, and field surgery would be as quick as shielding the signal. 

Or it would have been, if Loki had not stopped, transfixed, at the sight of his own skin. His skin was blue...not the blue-white of frostbite but a deep dead blue, like the walls of a chasm deep within a glacier. His fingers grew frantic, scrabbling away the furs, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he wrenched away his leather coat and pulled up the sleeve of the underlayers. It was not an illusion nor a trick of the light due to the ice surrounding him. His arm was blue from elbow to fingers, with markings like raised scars curving around his forearm. They end at his finger tips, his nails thicker... involuntarily he ran his tongue across the back of his teeth to find they were pointed. 

The taunting voice of Maelkith was lost in the roaring in Loki's ears, the tidal wave of shame and disgust and horror. He would feel the bile rising in his throat, and he tore his eyes away in revulsion, turning away from the arm turned traitor. He could not breathe, the emotions ripping at him, tearing... 

"NO!" He could not. He could not break. He dared not, for he would lose and not losing was all he had left. He could not lose. Loki drew a ragged breath and the maelstrom eased, just a little. He closed his eyes, hiding the horror that was his body, the voice in his head saying _Breathe! Slower! You're not concentrating_. Eyes closed, he focused on his breathing, calming down his heartbeat as if ready to take aim at a target. 

Maelkith's voice re-entered his consciousness. "You may evade us now but you will not save this universe. It should not exist. It is an aberration. Every day it decays into nothing a little more, reverting to the state of things as they should be. It is dying slowly and painfully. Our act would be a mercy killing." 

Loki could feel despair rising in him, despite his breathing. He threw himself into analysis like a falling man grabbing at a last desperate handhold. Why was Maelkith still talking? What was his purpose...? 

Maelkith could not find him. That was the answer. If he could, Loki would already be in his hands, helpless and trapped as he was. The tracking device was not working, either because of the thick walls of ice around him, or the bitter cold...or other reasons... _Breathe, Loki_ said the voice in his head. _Concentrate_. 

He moved his focus from Maelkith's voice to readjusting his clothing, pulling back on his layers and the furs over all. He had not lost. All he had to do was wait...and suddenly he felt anger, chasing away the horror and pain, giving him the strength to fight. He would not wait like this. He would die if he had to, but he would die in the skin he chose! The anger sparked his magic, spreading through him like a fire, heat running from his heart down every artery. He could almost feel himself changing, the barbaric marks fading, the foul blue melting away. He knew for certain it had worked when the cold hit him like a blow. 

He opened his eyes. He had no more magic, every reserve stripped away (except for that which somehow, below his conscious control, kept him what he was). But no matter, he would burn his books if he had to, make a fire... 

The light almost blinded him, the golden glow of the Bifrost blazing against the ice. Loki stared stupidly at it for an instant, before rising swiftly to his feet and diving towards it, half afraid it would vanish before it got there. _Let the Dark Elves howl!_ he thought with savage joy as the Bifrost caught him and whisked him away. 

Heimdal stood impassive as Loki steadied himself on his feet and smoothed away the emotions from his face. Golden eyes met green, and Loki raised an eyebrow. 

"The All-Father told me not to intervene," Heimdal said, interpreting the raised eyebrow correctly. 

"Treason again, Heimdal?" Loki said, "This is in danger of becoming a habit." 

"But the Queen," Heimdal continued, as if Loki had not spoken, "gave me different orders." 

Loki raised his chin as he considered this, then dropped the defiant pose. "My thanks, Guardian," he said, then cocked his head. "Though I think you might have acted sooner." 

"I could not see you," said Heimdal mildly, and internally Loki reeled. If not for the anger, for the foolish use of his magic revealing him to Heimdal... 

"There," and Heimdal, taking advantage of Loki's silence, nodded to the corner of the Observatory. "There is a potion for you, that will heal and warm. There are Healing Stones too, to be used later. You have little time." 

Nothing, not so much as a twitch of Heimdal's brow or a tremor of his lips revealed that Loki's face was washed with blue as if painted by a careless child. The face was still Loki's, the eyes green and the skin smooth, but across the cheekbones and forehead, down the nose and chin was the truth of what he was. Loki's magic cast in hate and anger had chased it away but the brief cold moment afterwards was enough for Jotenheim to mark his exposed skin as its own. 

Heimdal remembered (how could he not) the last time he had seen Loki's face blue. But his face remained impassive as Loki drank the potion, erasing the blue, and his thoughts remained his own. 

"For my mother," and Loki was standing before Heimdal once more. He had dismissed his furs, and with them the lingering emotional disturbance that Heimdal could sense hanging around him. With a flourish Loki summoned a container, the Aether moving inside it like a living thing, and presented it in both hands with a flourish. "It is, I think, safer here than it is with me. Then I will go." 

"You will be returned to Midgard by Bifrost," said Heimdal. Like Eir, he could tell where a conversation was going. Loki straightened out of his half-mocking pose. 

"No," Loki said, his brow tense. "The mortals, they will be waiting..." 

"I will be as discrete as I can," and when Loki gave no sign of agreement, "But you will do this. I would rather battle you than face the Queen having disobeyed her orders." 

The tension in Loki's face melted and the suspicion of a smile lingered around the corner of his lips. "You are wise. She is formidable." And more softly, "How is she?" 

"Nothing ails the Queen save being thought unwell," said Heimdall, and the suspicion of a smile on Loki's lips became a certainty. "And concern for you." 

"Care for her," Loki said, quickly. "And beg her pardon that I must go without seeing her." 

"She will not give it," Heimdal said. "She knows you cannot wait. The story has gone about that you have every right to take Jane Foster from her cell, but that story will melt like snow if you are seen here alone. Thor and Jane are on Midgard and well." His eyes grew distant. "They wait to be questioned by the Son of Coul." 

"A fate I will doubtless soon share," said Loki dryly. He extended his hands again and this time the Guardian took the container. Then Loki turned and stood, straight and tall, a prince of Asgard even in his battered and stained armor. "Again, Guardian, my thanks." 

Heimdal's golden eyes flicked in acknowledgement and the light came down, the rainbows swirling and stars flashing past. When the light faded Loki found himself back in the garden, standing on wet bricks, evergreen shrubs dripping behind him. He was caught in a white light, but it was dim compared to the Bifrost. 

Loki was in no rush for what came next. He had a good idea of what it would be: a return to the white room, a restriction of his privileges, the loss of the credit he had gained for his _cooperation_. 

He felt void, his goal fulfilled, the constant tension of hiding and hunting and fighting lifted. He raised his head. The stars were washed out by the lights of the city but not invisible. He let his empty senses fill: the seed diamond stars sparkling against the velvet sky, threatening to be veiled by soft grey cloud, the smell of damp cold earth, the low indistinguishable hum of a huge city around him. 

He sensed a presence and turned his head away from the sky and towards the large glass door of the house. Though the glass, Darcy was watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to say...wasn't putting down fix-it fics - I love fix-it fics. But this would go a lot faster if I just wrote "Loki went to lots of places and the Dark Elves never caught up"!


	17. Hero's Welcome

JARVIS made an ahem sound. For some reason being in London made him more butler-y than usual. Darcy closed her eyes, steeled herself and swung her feet back onto the floor. 

She'd been relieved when Coulson showed up to do the SHIELD third-degree thing. She was even more relieved when he chose her to talk to first, and more still when she walked into the interrogation room and the "Daniel Connor" file had been left open "carelessly" on the table. Coulson managed to make a big show of closing it while leaving the thing open as long as possible. It was then she _knew_ the story she and Jon and Thor and Jane had coordinated last night would fly. Coulson was going to make sure of it. 

Coulson walked her to the exit afterwards. "Go to bed," he'd said as he closed the door of the SHIELD vehicle behind her, and man, she'd never been so happy to follow orders. So, yeah. _Sorry Coulson, I tried._ "This better be good, J." 

"We have a visitor from Asgard." 

Darcy's eyes went wide. "Never doubted you for a moment," and she picked up the huge grey sweater where she'd dropped it on the floor and pulled it over her pjs. Sure, it might be wiser to wait, but when was she ever wise? Anyway, Jon had planned to bring Erik to Oxford if and when they were out of questioning, and Jane would wait for Thor. And who knew how long Thor would take? Coulson was going to accept his story about the Ether...but why he'd left in a hurry last time? Probably not so much. No one else was going to be here for a while.

Her jeans were too much like hard work and the sneakers she had kicked off had vanished, so she padded down the stairs barefoot. The house was plenty warm anyways. She stopped dead when she entered the dining room. Once again the window looked like a painting: a night scene, with a background of twisted bare branches, lit up by the security lights, set against the black shadows of the evergreen foliage. In the foreground was Loki, his clothing echoing the black and green of the background, the metal highlights shining in the night. His head was thrown back, face pale and calm, and his eyes fixed inscrutably on the sky. She moved slowly closer until his head turned from the sky to look directly at her and broke the spell. 

Moving quickly now, Darcy opened the door, relief flooding her body, making her feel almost giddy. "Loki? Are you okay?" Even as she spoke the anxiety of the last few days swamped her and, like a mom finally finding her lost toddler in the mall, flipped relief into anger. "Where the hell have you been?" she hissed. "Get in here!" 

Loki felt her irritation igniting the fury that always lay just below the surface, and he was glad of it. It spread fire through his body, straightening his back and strengthening his voice. Heimdal's potion had dulled the pain, but he was tired and injured and would desire only to bathe and sleep at any price, if not for the rage. He swept in past her, head high, then stopped to study her as she closed the glass door behind him. Loose hair only partially obscuring her pale face and the dark marks under her eyes. The faint purple and green thread in the loose grey sweater faintly echoed the pastel cake-patterned pants she wore. His survey ended at her feet, small and vulnerable on the wooden floor and he felt a sudden irrational stab of fury. 

He kept his head high, looking at her aristocratically down his nose and injecting his words with just the right amount of patient contempt. "Where have I been? Saving the Realms. You?" He scanned her foot to head openly this time, marking when he had finished that her cheeks were now flushed with annoyance.

"Don't let me keep you from your rest," he added and the sarcasm in his voice made the accusation of laziness and inactivity without the need of words. He drank in Darcy's glare like wine.

"Just saving London. Nothing big," she snapped back. "Thanks for letting us know you were alive...not. Thor's been worried sick." Because Thor had been, hadn't he? Couldn't Loki have sent Thor word that he wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere? 

Loki spread his hands. "I wasted no time in returning here. How could I not, with such a welcome waiting?" He moved before Darcy had a chance to think of a retort and to cap it all, her phone started to vibrate in her sweater pocket. By the time she fished it out, Loki had left the room. She cursed under her breath and followed him into the hall, answering the phone as she went. 

"Has Daniel Connor returned?" It was Coulson, of course. He was almost as bad as Natasha for knowing things he really should have had no way of knowing. 

"Sort of," because someone might be listening in. "How do you know?" 

"We have our ways. Is he inside the house?" 

"Yes. He's going upstairs." Somehow Loki looked wrong against the pale green panelling, like an actor wearing a costume off stage. 

Coulson's faint _tsk_ sounded in her ear. "If I tell you not to engage him further, will you listen?" 

"Sure." 

Coulson sighed this time. "But you won't necessarily do it. I'll say it anyway. Don't engage. I'll be there with backup in twenty minutes." 

"It's fine...," but Coulson was gone. Darcy paused, putting the phone away. She was perfectly safe, Loki had promised not to harm her, said the rational part of Darcy's brain. The non-rational part wanted to make him apologise for being a jerk and tell her what had happened. She headed up the stairs, reaching the top when Loki's slow, deliberate steps had taken him to the double doors at the top. 

"You can't go in there", she blurted, regretting it instantly. Loki immediately pulled down the handles and pushed the twin doors with enough force to swing them wide open. Without a pause he walked in, as arrogant as if he owned the place. He stopped at the center of the room, surveying his surroundings. The room was decorated in masculine neutral tones. The main room accessed through the doors had buttoned leather sofas and easy chairs set on a rug in subdued tones which felt expensive under Darcy's bare feet. To the left was a large leather-lined alcove accessed by a set of stairs. It contained a large wooden bed, piled with white linen and heavy taupe brocade. To the right were two doors, one leading to a dressing room/walk in wardrobe and the other to a series of smaller rooms that fell under the category of washroom.

Loki turned. " _This_ ," he said slowly, "should be adequate." Darcy suppressed the desire to pull her hair out and snorted instead. 

"Don't you get it?" she said. "Coulson called. SHIELD know you're here. You need to...you know, Daniel Connor up" and she waggled her fingers to suggest magical alteration. Loki looked at her down his nose. Darcy rolled her eyes, then stopped and took a breath.

"Look, no-one's telling you what to do. It's just...Coulson is on his way. " 

"Coulson doubtless knows who Daniel Connor is," Loki said loftily. 

" _Doubtless_ ," said Darcy, in a creditable copy of his accent and tone. "But maybe, you know, the guys with him won't? Maybe they'll remember when they saw you last?" She was cross enough to be glad that she sounded condescending and that her words made Loki narrow his eyes. 

"I do what I want," he snapped. "I did what you asked of me. Now I chose to bathe and rest _in the form I choose_." 

Darcy moved between him and the doors in the right wall, and crossed her arms. "You did what I wanted? Uh uh, you left me behind. I need to know what happened and you're going to tell me." 

Yggdrasill's root, the wench was irritating to the last degree! Loki glared into her eyes. She, uncowed and stubborn to the last, matched his stare. Very well then. With hasty fingers Loki undid the buckle against his side and pulled the pauldron downwards from his shoulder so the straps slid through the slits in his coat. It was either too hastily done or his injured shoulder had weakened his grip. The pauldron slipped from his hand, landing with a loud, obnoxious clank on the floor.

Darcy jumped, the expression on her face switching for an instant to fear, and then to irritation. Through his anger and exhaustion, Loki felt a thrill of victory. He allowed the corners of his mouth to go up a trifle and was rewarded by an eyeroll.

"You're acting like a spoiled brat," she said. 

"Indeed," said Loki mildly, keeping the little maddening smile on his lips. He took his time over the straps for his left arm-brace: this time he deliberately let it drop, allowing it to slide down his forearm to the floor. Darcy didn't jump at the impact this time, but she glanced down and the irritated edge to her mouth grew more pronounced. She drew a deep breath. 

"Look, I get it. Just tell me and I'm done. I'm out of here." 

"Concerned for your master's floor?" Loki let his smirk widen a fraction as his fingers worked the buckle on the remaining arm-brace. 

"This?" Her surprise was transparently fake. "Oh you think this is _Tony's_ room. His is much better than this." 

"You lie badly," Loki noted, as he let the right arm-brace drop. She didn't start and she had her face under control. Still, he took malicious pleasure in the speed of her pulse beating in her neck. 

"Lack of practice I guess." Seemingly unabashed, she kept talking. "Got the Ether under all that armor?" 

"That is none of your concern." The gorget was easy. Loki simply pulled away from his chest with one hand as he spoke and dropped it to the floor in one movement. 

"Course it's my concern." Her eyes widened. "Did you _use_ the Ether?" Loki ignored her, lifting his gaze over her head, focused on the problem of the coat. Heimdal's potion dulled the pain but it would be difficult to remove the garment without revealing he was injured. Difficult but not impossible - he would win this small victory if nothing else. Achingly slowly he eased the coat from the injured shoulder, and then just as slowly from the right, pulling his arm free so the heavy coat could slide down behind him without a whisper of strain appearing on his face. 

Darcy really didn't want to find him attractive. He was rude, arrogant, obnoxious and dangerous. Unfortunately, she did. 

It wasn't like Darcy hadn't seen a man take his clothes off before. Not just boy friends: there were posers peeling off their shirts by the pool as if they were doing you a favor, or Tony matter-of-factly removing his armor as she got dressings ready or the strippers at her sister-in-law's hen night. Loki had all the controlled movements of the professionals, but with the stern efficiency of Tony and unfortunately the attitude of the posers. Loki looked fixedly over her head, his pale face haughty and his raised chin signalling his superiority. Unfortunately there was no pool nearby to push him into. That didn't help her mood. 

She was fully aware of how he moved, agile as a panther, fully and gracefully in control of his strength. She couldn't help but notice when he swayed his hips as he slid the heavy coat behind him and let it fall with a gentle leathery twump onto the ground. She couldn't stop seeing the way his fingers moved across his torso to the straps, stroking an edge from left to right before slipping a finger in to release the catch, and travelling the other way as the strap fell free. She tried to focus instead on the insane detail of his clothes, the complexity of the mix of green fabric and leather, both embossed and plain. She studied the metal studs and wondered what the hell was the point of it all? Like, why the S&M vibe? Was that a thing for Asgard's royalty? First kid space prince, second kid bondage king? 

The last strap fell away and the garment, whatever it was fell open. To Darcy's surprise she realized that he wasn't wearing some mock medieval tunic underneath, but the tight-fitting undershirt that Tony had developed and all the Avengers wore. How...? 

But that wasn't the real surprise. The undershirt clung, as it was supposed to, to his body underneath. Darcy couldn't think why she expected Loki to be thin under his clothes (or more accurately, couldn't quite remember). Instead he was lean but strong, the black cloth's slight sheen emphasizing the lines of his torso and the swell of his pecs. He was not as muscular as Thor or even Steve, but built like an athlete for speed and agility. Or like a model, for a really high-class perfume ad. He leaned his head in a predatory tilt, eyes hooded, and Darcy suddenly got the distinct feeling she was in trouble. 

Fuck. What was she going to do? Darcy really didn't want to back down, but this...she wasn't sure where this was going. But, like, that was probably exactly the reaction he was going for, trying to get her to run away like a frightened mouse...Before she could make up her mind, Loki's face twisted and he tore the strapped waistcoat thing off him with a grimace and threw it on the floor between them. Darcy involuntarily took a step backwards, and as she moved, noticed something. 

"Now," Loki hissed, "I will bathe whether you will it or no. Step aside." 

Loki had had enough of playing. The wench should show some gratitude, know her place and leave him be. He thought her step back and the dropping of her eyes might signal capitulation, but he was wrong. Her blue eyes rose back to his as she asked, "What's that?" and pointed to his shoulder. Loki glanced down and saw what she had seen. The sheen of the fabric on the undershirt was muted on his left shoulder, a matt-black patch of darkness telling tales. 

"Nothing." 

As he spoke she took a step forward, then another, head tilted looking at the dull patch. Loki stood his ground, suddenly uncertain as she came close. Mere inches away she stopped and raised her eyes again. "Are you sure?" And then she put out her hand and touched it. 

It was not a blow, not even a jab, but the wound had been aggravated by his impatient pulling of of the leather jerkin and he could not prevent an involuntary flinch away. For an instant the borders of his vision went white. When it cleared, Darcy was looking up at him with a very different expression on her face. Gone was the irritation, replaced with a concerned frown. 

"You're injured." Suddenly Loki felt a warm hand in his, pulling. He looked stupidly down to see it was Darcy's. He looked back up to frown at her and her audacity at laying hands on him. She didn't seem to care. "You win, okay? The bath is in there." She jerked her head behind her. "I'm going to help, then you do what you gotta do, okay?" 

Sullenly he let himself be led by the hand like a little child and directed to sit on a padded bench while Darcy moved to a storage wall, opening doors and placing supplies on a trolley. Besides storage and the bench, the room was taken up with a huge tub supported on clawed legs. At the back glass doors suggested a shower and a further wooden door hinted at other facilities. 

Darcy wheeled the trolley over, all business. "Okay, I'm going to cut the shirt off and we'll see what we've got." Loki tensed as the cold of the blades ran up his arm, soothed by the warmth of Darcy's hand trailing behind it. "'s okay," she murmured, as she carefully cut the neckband, then studied her work. The scissors now moved to the shirt hem. 

"Why are you doing this?" Loki was dimly aware it was a little late to ask. 

"Less painful," said Darcy, matter-of-factly, as the scissors zipped up the center of the shirt. Job done, she put the scissors down and gently drew one half of the shredded shirt away, then the other. The fabric moved easily, not sticking to the wound, just as Tony had designed it. The only gasp as the shirt fell away was Darcy's. Loki watched as her emotions ran openly across her face: shock, concern, dismay, guilt. Her hands went to her mouth and her eyes met his. He could barely hear her words: "I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

He did not want to see this, preferred her anger fueling his. Instead her reaction made him feel obscurely ashamed, and irritated by feeling anything of the sort. "Know of what?" he said curtly. "I am not mortal. This is nothing." 

His tone shook her back into briskness. " _This_ " and her finger, safely far away from his torso, waved from the wound on his shoulder to the deep bruising on his side and the lighter bruises, souvenirs of lesser blows, "..is not nothing. I asked if you were okay. You never said you were injured." There was no accusation in her voice or face. Loki felt less aggrieved but no more patient. 

"I never said I was not." She had circled to look at his back, putting the rags of the shirt down beside him. Loki took them and balled the fabric in his hand. He had no intention of leaving his blood lying around for the curious to investigate. He was conscious of her breath against his skin as she looked closely at the injuries there. 

"You were thrown against something, right?" She circled back to look directly into his face again. "You might have internal injuries. You need a doctor. And you're not supposed to lie to me." 

"I did not lie." He was tempted to point out that he was no longer bound now his task was over, but he had no stomach to see her face change again to fear and dread. Instead he slipped the shirt into the pocket dimension through the pouch at his waist, swapping it for the bag of healing stones. Tired as he was, it was done deftly enough to make Darcy's eyes widen in surprise at the fabric apparently changing form. 

She took the bag and looked inside, recognizing them. "So I, what? Crush them and put the powder on your shoulder? And the dressing over that?" She got to work, focused completely on his injury, seemingly unaware of how close she was. Loki's anger had died down to a simmer and with it his strength. Exhaustion swept over him. He was so tired. All he wanted was to bathe in warm waters, to drown in warm seas and sleep... 

A touch to his arm went through him like electricity, jolting his vision into focus. Warm green seas became a pair of green-blue eyes with a concerned crease between them. "Are you going to collapse? Cos I don't know what I'd be able to do about it if you do." 

"Don't be foolish," he snapped, avoiding the question and hiding his weakness all at once. Darcy shrugged and went back to work. 

"I've worked out what your superpower is," she said to his shoulder. 

"Pray tell," Loki said, struggling against the tiredness trying to engulf him. 

"Being such a dick people want to cut their own heads off in frustration." 

Despite himself he laughed, a brief gurgle of laughter that was cut off by a hiss as she placed the dressing over the wound. In that moment he realized his anger was gone. He felt a quick stab of panic, as if he was on the battlefield with all weapons lost, missing everything vital to his survival. But he was too tired to pursue the feeling and in a moment it was gone. 

"It's a prototype," said Darcy, stepping back and nodding at his shoulder. "It'll stay on until the wound heals. It's waterproof and everything." She tilted her head again. "Your bruises..." 

Loki felt words trembling on his lips, words of thanks, words of he knew-what-not. But fortunately or unfortunately, Thor chose that exact moment to enter the room. "Brother!" he rumbled, and exhausted as he was, Loki still saw that Darcy's smile was not entirely natural. If Loki was not trusted by Darcy, he was not the only one she did not wholly trust. 

"Loki!" came a higher voice, and Jane emerged from behind Thor. "We're so glad to see you..." she said before stopping short when she saw his naked, bruised chest. "Oh my God," she whispered, and subsided. 

"The Aether is safe on Asgard." Loki directed his words to them all but they were meant for Darcy, the only gesture he could make in front of Jane and Thor. "Jane and the Realms are out of danger." 

Thor stepped in. "And now we must follow the custom of warriors of Asgard. The healer must leave," he bowed to Darcy, "and those who stayed in safety serve those who went to battle." He squeezed Jane's hand reassuringly, and the concern faded from Jane's face. 

"Okay then, I'm putting Darcy to bed." She held up her hand as Darcy opened her mouth. "You've helped us enough, now it's your turn." 

"Okay, okay," grumbled Darcy. "I'm coming quietly." 

"Where's Coulson?" she asked, once back in her room. 

"Downstairs with another agent," said Jane. "Once JARVIS let him see what was going on he was good with that." 

Darcy's eyes went wide for an instant but she said nothing. Only when Jane had left the room did she speak again. "J, that restricted access?" 

The AI spoke. "Still active, Ms Lewis. Agent Coulson saw only what transpired after Thor entered the room." 

"Cool. Delete all files, including backups on my mark, password 7 zip xbox hulu music bestbuy 8 nut 3 walmart coffee zip 2 queen xbox. Mark." 

"Deletion complete." 

Darcy wasn't sure if that was the best move, but she was very sure she didn't want anyone to see what had gone on in Tony's room. She thought about that, and the bruises and about the white scars on Loki's back under the bruises, curving marks that looked like they had been carved into the skin. Halfway through she finally fell asleep. 

In Tony's bathroom, Thor had run a bath adding healing stones to the water, undressed Loki and helped him in under protest. Loki never willingly accepted help. 

"I seem to have forgotten this custom," said Loki, and his smile was tired but honest. "The one where you serve me." 

"Perhaps you hit your head," said Thor deadpan. "Do you remember when that happened?" 

Through jokes and questions Thor encouraged Loki to talk, as much to keep him awake as to learn what had happened, listening until the water was cold and Loki was half asleep. Loki was too weary to protest as he was lifted like an infant from the water, wrapped in the large bath sheets and carried bodily to the bed across the room. Thor could swear he was asleep well before they got there. 

Thor looked down on his sleeping brother, his face unmarked unlike his marred body and thanked the Nine and the Norns and any friendly force that was listening that his brother had been returned to him. Not just from the quest he had undertaken, though that was cause for thanks enough, but returned as his brother. The talk in the Houses of Healing the day before the Svaltalfar attacked Asgard was not an aberration. Things were not as they had been before between himself and Loki. It could never be as it had been before. But Thor felt in his heart it might yet be better that it had been these past decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's super-power nicked from Hello Tailor ( at http://hellotailor.blogspot.ie/2012/04/pre-movie-avengers-post-lokis-costumes.html ) - a great resource for Loki's armor. Also really like this http://www.miriamjoywrites.com/2013/11/14/loki-gender-and-costume-design-in-thor-the-dark-world/ 
> 
> I know I also saw a page (maybe 18 months ago) suggesting the straps opened at the front of the jerkin (or whatever the correct term is), but I can't find it now. I'm taking it that the sleeves belong to the jerkin too - Loki just had to take the pain to get it off.
> 
> So...what now for Loki?


	18. Flying, Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Agents of Shield 01x08 - The Well

Loki was instantly awake, the snowy white in his eye line contrasting with the blissful warmth that enveloped his naked body. The incongruity jolted him upright, one hand groping for a weapon. It took a scan of the room to remember where he was and how he had got there. 

A scan of the room, and her face. 

Darcy had risen from the couch almost as quickly as he had moved, and stood, surprised but not alarmed. The cold clear light showed every detail, finding the colored threads in her grey sweater, the white thread in her dark jeans, highlighting her cheekbones and the curve of her mouth. The shadows beneath her eyes had faded (Loki had slept long, then). There was a faint flush of rose across her cheeks with a deeper shade on the lips that were forming the silent word "Whoa." 

They stayed as they were for what seemed hours, locked in silence. Darcy's gaze skittered across his bare torso, then back to his eyes. Loki felt an answering warmth pooling inside him, readily identifiable when no longer swamped with the heat of anger. Words came unbidden to his lips: jest? hope? Afterwards he could not tell. 

"Have you come to join me?" 

Darcy's face changed instantly, her flush darkening to a mortified red and a look of distaste and betrayal flitting across her face. He might as well have slapped her. The perfect crystalline moment was shattered. 

Naturally, that was the moment Jane rejoined them from the door behind Darcy's back, her timing as perfect as Thor's had always been. While not always the most aware of the social currents around her, even Jane noticed the atmosphere. She frowned. "I was gone five minutes. What happened?" 

Darcy turned and shook her head. Jane looked at her friend's face and her frown turned into uncertainty. "Well, okay." Her attention turned to Loki. "Good to see you awake." Unselfconsciously she scanned his chest and smiled a small sincere smile. "Wow. The bruises are almost gone. That's incredible." Her face changed again, all business. "Now to get moving." 

They gave him privacy to wash and dress. Loki took less than ten minutes, experience of the battle field making speed second-nature. Darcy had handed him a pile of clothing without looking at him as he entered the bathing room wrapped in a bedsheet. The green and gold armor he banished into his pocket dimension. He could not imagine wearing it again. He put on the fresh Midgardian under-shirt and leggings, topped them off with black leathers, and then shifted into the shape that Coulson expected to see. The urgency was underlined by Jane's frank curiosity when Loki emerged from the bathroom not translating into questions. Instead she, with Darcy, walked with the red-haired youth down the stairs and into the dining room, telling Loki in an undertone what had happened and the story that Coulson had been told. Darcy was silent, and each time Loki glanced at her she was looking away. 

Coulson came when Loki was eating, a wary Thor by his side. Smiling his meaningless bland smile, Coulson sat at the table and held out a hand. "Pleased to finally meet you, DC." 

Loki shook his hand without a quiver, his polite mask flawless, aware of the tremor running through the other three people in the room. At Coulson's shoulder, Thor had visibly flinched at the name. "That's me," Loki said. "You must be Agent Coulson. I've heard a lot about you." 

"Nothing bad I hope," said Coulson, seemingly unaware of the emotions in the room. "I'm afraid we don't have time to talk. We need your assistance." 

There was no elegant way to get out of it. Thor, thankfully, remained silent but the parting grasp of his hand spoke of affection and concern. Jane also shook his hand, uncertainty in her face, and behind her shoulder Darcy nodded at him, a crease in her brown suggesting worry. He had little time to analyse that crease as Coulson whisked him away. 

* * *

Loki enjoyed flying. He enjoyed the wind in his hair as he flew skiffs recklessly above the waters of Asgard. He had dreamed as a boy of skimming above the waters through his own powers, able to fly far away and not be found. His first jealousy of Thor had been of his ability to fly, dragged along by Mjölnir. He had been working for some time on shape-shifting into a bird, a form more difficult that it might first appear, as fragile and perfectly engineered as it was. He had almost succeeded just before the announcement of Thor's coronation... 

This was not his idea of flying.

The flying vehicle was large and enclosed, with no means of seeing outside the craft. The metal tube held two rows of seats, each with restraining harnesses, and little else. It took Loki a moment to identify its odd familiarity and then it came: the town called Stuttgart, his "capture" by the Captain and the Man of Iron, his transport in a craft like this... Without the feverish excitement and delight in his deceit that he had felt then, he was free to reflect on the uncanniness of travelling in the belly of this metal beast. The throbbing of its engines worked its way into his body and he could feel Coulson's guarded, watchful eyes measuring his reactions. Now he was flying blind: there was no plan. Nor could he hope for thunder. 

Loki became aware that Coulson was moving to the seat beside him, a paper file and a tablet bundled in his hand. He dropped into the seat and extended the file. "I imagine you haven't seen this," he said, his face and voice blandly conventional as always. He paused. "The contents are confidential, of course. If my team ask questions, feel free to tell them you're not at liberty to say." 

That suggested Coulson actually did have a task for Loki, which was a pleasant surprise. It also suggested that he knew Daniel Connor, or "DC", was not who he purported to be. 

The file did not take long to read. Where one would have expected dates, the text was solidly blacked out. Daniel Connor had been born in London, gone to school in Lancashire (the name of the school was also redacted), vanished (the following paragraph a mass of black) and found by Coulson in New Mexico after the Puente Antiguo incident (two "facts" that had Loki raising his eyebrows). Two redacted pages followed, with two more listing DC's abilities, which held only one surprise: DC had knowledge of and contacts in Asgard. "Teleportation" had been added in pen. The main thing Loki had learned: Coulson definitely knew. His own estimation of his chances of survival rose accordingly. As for the file itself... 

"Hardly seems worth the paper," Coulson commented, echoing Loki's thoughts. "But there's a method to the madness or so I'm told." 

He handed over the tablet without a word of explanation. Another test, which Loki was proud to pass with flying colors. It was near impossible for someone living in the same building as Tony Stark not to be exposed to Midgardian technology. Loki woke the device, swiped, took in the image at his first glance and almost dropped the tablet. He gripped the device and his emotions, and examined the image minutely. 

"If you rotate it...," Coulson started, but his hovering hand was un-needed. Loki was already moving the object on the screen, examining it on all sides.

Coulson remained silent until Loki raised his eyes from the screen. "Thoughts?" 

Loki had almost forgotten the agent was there. He turned his head and fixed Coulson's gaze. "Have you found this object? Has anyone touched it?" 

Coulson nodded. "We haven't found it; another party has. And yes, unfortunately they have touched it." 

"I see," Loki said. A flash of understanding passed between them. This was not something that should be in mortal hands. "It is from Asgard, a piece of a berserker staff. I thought all had returned to Asgard from...Earth ten centuries ago." More lies in Asgard. "It is not safe for mortals to use." Or Asgardians, truth be told. 

"I can't think of a single time when anything alien in human hands ended well," Coulson said, "What does it do?" 

Loki paused. He did not like to speak of this, an attitude picked up from Asgardian soldiers long ago. They had looked down on the berserkers, yet also respected them for their sacrifice, and feared them. "The magic in the staff taps into the darkness present in every sentient being engendering uncontrollable rage. It gives the bearer the strength of twenty, but it is a strength unfocused and indiscriminate." 

Coulson paused, as if he was picking up on Loki's discomfort, or merely deciding what best to say. "This digital model came from the impression the piece left inside a tree in Norway. " His lips quirked as Loki nodded matter-of-factly. "Ah. You won't be surprised to hear that the tree is much older than it should be, then." Coulson waited, and as Loki's face revealed nothing, continued. "There's no evidence of any further fragments in the vicinity. We need to find them." 

"The staff is broken. It would take more than mortal strength to do that," Loki said. "Most likely it was broken by the berserker it was entrusted to." Which made that man a deserter. The only reason to break the staff would be to hide it, and the bearer, from Asgard. 

"Would that be standard procedure?" Coulson asked, and when Loki shook his head, "Can you find the pieces?" 

Loki shook his head again. "If we had one fragment, perhaps. Who is the _other party_ who has this?" 

Coulson shrugged. "An obscure Norse pagan hate group. De nye gudene - the New Gods. They killed a man getting it. They'll kill again to get the rest." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and looked sideways at Loki. "SHIELD has a contact. An expert we spoke to when Thor's hammer arrived here. Dr. Elliot Randolph. We're on our way to Seville, Spain to meet him. We'll rendezvous with the rest of my team there." 

"What do you want from me?" Loki was acutely aware of how little he knew of this world. He had the sense the vessel was going south but little more. 

Coulson's smile was tight and private. "I need you to come along to the conversation with Randolph. Keep your mouth shut and listen. Tell me if anything doesn't add up." 

Three hours after leaving London, they finally landed. The air caressed Loki's face warmly as he left, as if to console for the biting smell of traffic. Coulson and Loki were joined by the pilot, a smiling woman. Her warm brown hair moved in the breeze and her casual black jacket and grey trousers looked relaxed but professional. Her casual air did not entirely hide the practiced ease of movement of the professional agent. "Hi," she said, extending a hand. "Bobbi Morse. Good to have you on board." She turned and lead the way to a waiting black car. 

The warm stone of the city contrasted with the blue sky, and the university they arrived at looked even more ancient than the streets of London. The beauty of colonnaded walkways, arches and the worn stone courtyard outside was not matched by the utilitarian corridor Loki, Agent Coulson and Agent Morse walked down, nor in the cluttered office they eventually arrived at. 

The man they had come to see was not impressive either. Dr. Elliot Randolph was not particularly tall nor particularly memorable, his brown suit was not particularly well-pressed and his only apparent similarity to the beautiful city outside was his hair, the same honey color as the stone. Loki studied him as Agent Coulson exchanged pleasantries about the pen in Dr. Randolph's pocket. If Agent Coulson was suspicious of the professor, Dr. Randolph seemed completely unaware of it. He was unphased by three agents in his office. Surprisingly so.    

They took the seats in front of the desk: Loki on the far left observing, Agent Morse in the center close to Agent Coulson who was taking the lead. Coulson was mild and reassuring, Morse was friendly and apparently flattered by Randolph's obvious admiration. Randolph spared not even a glance for the young red-haired agent. 

Whatever else Randolph might be, he was certainly the expert in Norse lore he claimed to be. He identified the staff as quickly as Loki had done, and readily found in his books an account, dated some centuries after the Asgardians had withdrawn, of a berserker warrior who broke his staff. Yet Loki still found something incongruous about the man. 

"The manuscript wouldn't happen to say where he hid them, would it?" Agent Morse purred, leaning forward. 

The professor's focus turned to her, looking down, then up. "Actually, it does," he replied, smiling and leaning forward himself. "In three verses. Now, let's all bear in mind these are poetic abstracts from long-lost ancient texts. So, there is one about a tree, which they've found, it seems. Another is, 'East of the river, sun overhead, buried in Earth with the bones of the dead.' That's a bit macabre, isn't it? There's another here. Well, this one doesn't even have a rhyme. But the gist of it is 'close to god.'" 

Agent Coulson shrugged. The bland contented look on his face hadn't altered. "I was hoping for less metaphor, more longitude and latitude." 

The professor glanced across at him, then back to Agent Morse, shrugging and pulling a face of sympathy. "Well, I mean, it does stand to reason to search near Viking raid routes, doesn't it? Now, there have been some recent interesting findings of Norse relics on Baffin island off the coast of Canada." 

Suspicion crystallized in Loki's mind. He would not say he knew Midgard geography in intimate detail, but he knew where Canada was and he remembered the route across the western sea as one of the less traveled routes of the North men. In Randolph's place, given the possibility of seeing a lost relic he had long studied, Loki would be offering assistance in the hope of gaining access to it. Instead this man seemed to be sending them on a wild goose chase. 

Loki shifted, making a soft sound that in Asgardian negotiations would be a request to step in. Somehow Agent Coulson recognized it as such, glanced across and half-nodded. Loki directed his attention to the professor. 

"Why start so far away? Are there no likely hiding places closer?" 

Loki knew the answer, and apparently so did Coulson. "The agent has a point. I believe Vikings even came to Seville," Agent Coulson said softly. 

"It was just a suggestion," the professor huffed. "Of course, the Vikings went to many places. You could start anywhere: east to the Black Sea, south to Sicily, north to the Arctic circle." 

Loki waited a half second for him to continue. When he didn't the omission told him everything. He sought in memory for a name last heard ten centuries ago, and spoke. "And west to Írland?" 

The use of the old name had an effect. The professor turned his head and looked fully at him for the first time. He paused, then stared, eyes bulging, and stood up abruptly sending his chair rolling backwards against the table of books. "You're..." 

Loki rose in one movement before the professor could speak and ruin everything. "BE SILENT!" he snapped. He was aware of Morse looking up at him with surprise, and of Coulson moving to his side. But his eyes did not move, fixing the professor in a long cold stare. The professor's mouth snapped shut and he looked down, his shoulders slumping. Coulson spoke but the defeated professor did not look up. "I think you and I need to have a longer talk Dr. Randolph. Back at our house." 

They walked the professor out past a protesting female student and into the car. At the airport they stopped, not outside the smaller flying vehicle they had used before, but at a much larger one of a style Loki recognised. Loki's researches had told him to expect rows of closely set seats inside. He was surprised to instead find an attractive seating area at the top of the steps, separated from the rest of the airliner by wood panelled walls. 

"Prepare for a retrieval operation with the others," Coulson told Morse tersely. "Read this," he handed over DC's file, "your eyes only. DC, you're with me." Morse nodded, but Loki could feel her eyes considering him as he followed Coulson and Randolph through the left hand door. 

The interrogation room they ended up in reminded Loki of his room in the Tower - white walls and minimal furniture, much of which was bolted down. Coulson directed Randolph to a chair as if he was a guest. The trip had apparently restored Randolph's confidence. He appraised Coulson and Loki as they took their places across the table.

"We're not recording this," Coulson told the room. 

"I insist that we do," said Randolph calmly. "I was cooperating with SHIELD as I have done before. You have no right to treat me like this." 

Loki leaned back in his chair, allowing all the arrogance of the prince settle around him. "The agent may not, but Asgard does. Have you forgotten your oath? Do you think Heimdall cannot see you? We might ignore your desertion, but do not think that means we will ignore treason." 

Randolph stared at the boyish face, subtly changed by its disdainful expression. He slumped. "So you _are_ of the Royal House. I saw you once, during the Wars. That's how _he_ knows," and he glanced across at Coulson. 

"On the contrary," Loki drawled, "Asgard can see you but we have long ignored you, unimportant as you are. Agent Coulson called on me." 

As Loki had expected, Randolph's Asgardian sense of superiority was punctured by this news. He slumped further. "How?" he croaked at Coulson. 

Coulson nodded at the pen in Randolph's breast pocket. "A Waterfield 44? On a lit Professor's salary? That's what first drew my attention. You're also pretty incurious for an academic being shown evidence of the artifacts you study. That was enough to make you a person of interest." 

Randolph leaned forward. "And now you know my secret. If I tell you everything, will you let me go?" 

"You will tell us everything and then beg for our mercy," Loki informed him. Coulson put his head to one side, twisted his face as if considering, then shrugged. 

Randolph turned his attention to Coulson. "Please," he said urgently. "I can't go back. I was telling the truth. I've fallen in love with life here, with humanity." 

"With finally feeling superior to those around you," Loki corrected with disdain. "With seducing women when no one looked twice at you on Asgard. You are not so noble, deserter." 

Randolph looked down, then back at Loki, defiance in his face. "I never thought myself noble, _my lord_. Do you know what I did on Asgard? I was a mason. Breaking rocks." He looked across at Coulson. "For thousands of years, if you can imagine that. So when they came, asking for people to fight, yes, of course I signed up. Not for the glory, but to travel, to get away." 

He looked back at Loki. "I hated the war. I hated the staff. Others loved all the power that comes with the rage. Not me. So I broke the staff and stayed, and lived a dozen lives instead of one. I'm in love with the world that gave me that. I'd be crazy not to be." He looked back at Coulson. "Let me stay." 

"Did you tell Nystrom or Larsen where to find the fragments of the staff?" 

"I don't know who those people are. I told nobody after that girl in 1546, I wanted it lost for ever. I'm a pacifist now." 

"Where are the fragments?" Coulson asked gently but implacably. 

Randolph sighed and told them.

When the interrogation was over, Loki sat in the waiting area until Morse whisked him to "assist Fitzsimmons". Fitzsimmons turned out to be two people, a man and a woman both young and both disarmingly ready to trust him. Morse winked and leaned against a counter, in a pose that suggested she was expecting entertainment. 

The man, Fitz, had produced a replica of the piece of staff found in Norway. "Decoy," he explained briefly. "We need to dress it up to look convincing, at least at first glance." 

"Is it true, that the professor's an Asgardian?" said the woman, Simmons, to Morse. 

"Yep". 

"Hiding in plain sight," Fitz said, turning from his paint samples. "Brilliant." 

"Here a thousand years. Think what we could learn from him," said Morse. 

"Gosh, yes," said Simmons with enthusiasm. "If we could just cut him open a teeny bit, get some tissue samples, maybe some bodily fluids..." 

She seemed perfectly serious. A glance at Fitz revealed he too was taking Simmons's words at face value, a smile of fond approval on his face. Faced with this display of mortal science geekery, Loki gained a new appreciation of Jane Foster's restraint. 

"Or," said Morse, the amusement clear in her voice, "we could just, I don't know, talk to him?" 

"Oh," and Simmons was flustered. "Oh, of course." She changed the subject. " _You've_ been to Asgard, right?" The question was directed at Loki. 

"If I say yes, will I have to provide bodily fluids?" Loki flashed back. 

Behind him, Morse snorted. "Only if you want to," she added under her breath but Simmons clearly heard it and flushed. 

Feeling an obscure sympathy with the scientist, Loki answered the speechless Simmons. "Yes, I've been to Asgard." 

"What was it like?" 

"Over-rated." Not the words Loki would have used before the questioning of Randolph, but now there was an unease Loki could not quite put his finger on. He felt Fitzsimmon's twin stares and fell back on Coulson's advice. "I'm not at liberty to say more." 

"Pity," Fitz said, then focused back on working on the replica. "What's it like working with Tony Stark?" 

"Are you going to be an Avenger?" said Simmons, as if finishing off Fitz's thought. 

Touched inadvertently on another sensitive spot, Loki reacted rather than providing a considered reply. "I don't work with Mr Stark, and I very much doubt it." He saw the wordless flash of communication between the two scientists. There seemed to be sympathy in it. 

"Not to worry," said Simmons reassuringly. "There's always other options." Her sisterly tone reminded Loki of what he had half-forgotten, that he looked younger than both halves of Fitzsimmons. He summoned up an appropriately awkward smile and felt Morse's appraising glance on him. 

"Can you give me a hand here?" offered Fitz. Letting the child feel useful, Loki judged. It seemed wise to agree. 

After Fitz had produced signs of age and wear on the fake, and Loki had added some detail with a fine brush, the replica stood up to more than a casual glance, or so Randolph said. Still contained in the white interrogation room, he picked the replica up gingerly and tossed it from hand to hand. 

"Excellent job," he said, as if to a promising student. "Though maybe not worth so much effort." 

Fitz took back the replica and fit it into a small case. "A little effort is worth it to stop these people," he said, without looking up. 

"Listen, I wouldn't worry too much about these angry youths." Randolph adopted a fatherly tone. "They always calm down, and eventually, they die of old age. And that is one of the pleasant aspects of life here. Everything changes." 

Fitz looked up from his case and Loki was surprised to see scorn in his eyes. "I don't have that time to waste." Randolph flashed a look across to Loki, one of comradeship against these impetuous humans, but Loki had no interest in returning it. Instead he turned his back and left with Fitz. 

"So blind," Fitz said through gritted teeth once the door closed. "What about the people who don't get to die of old age because of those bastards?" He looked across at Loki. "We're fighting a war, why can't he get that?" 

"I know," Loki said softly, wondering how much Fitz knew of the events of the past two years, and if Fitz would tell him. But Fitz simply clapped him on the back and walked on. 

The team met in a conference room, with Coulson leading in Randolph at the last minute. The final member of Coulson's team was there: Melinda May. Half a head shorter than Coulson or Morse, with dark flowing hair and dressed in SHIELD fatigues, she was formidable. No mere veneer of steel, Loki judged, but steel all the way though. She nodded at him at Coulson's introduction, before Morse gave a rapid run-down of the mission. 

Target: the 3rd centuy Roman remains under the church El Divino Niño in Seville. First team Coulson, May and Fitz, with Randolph who would retrieve the staff piece and place it into Fitz's case, while Fitz put the replica in its place. Second team Morse, Simmons and DC, as backup and support. 

"To subdue me if I touch the staff," Randolph said. 

"To defend you if your friends from Norway turn up," Coulson said. Randolph subsided. "Need I remind everyone to wear gloves?" he added. "I didn't think so." 

The city was washed with red and gold as they traveled to the church. The wait in the dark was less pleasant, but also uneventful. It was only after they had regrouped and were leaving the church that they were attacked.

The dim empty street outside the medieval church was suddenly crowded, men and women advancing on the group with a blonde woman and a brown-haired man at their head. The man, Nystrom, held a piece of metallic staff aloft, pain and fury etched onto his face. The New Gods had come in vengeance to claim what they wanted. 

"Crap," said Morse at Loki's elbow. 

"Get Fitzsimmons out of here," said Coulson, low and level into Loki's ear, then pressed keys into his hand. "Tell them to get into the car and away." The SHIELD agents were forming a defensive cluster - Coulson, May and Morse to the front, Fitzsimmons, Loki and Randolph at the rear with the solid church doors behind them. Loki concentrated, Seeing the car with one New God fighter on guard beside it. He grabbed Fitz by one arm, Simmons by the other and stepped through to stand beside the car. A single blow behind the ear brought the fighter down. 

"What the hell!" said Fitz. "Just happened?" finished Simmons. 

Loki pressed the keys into Fitz's hand. "Get in," he said urgently. "Coulson's orders. They can't get the fragment." Loki waited until both were inside with weapons drawn before flashing back across to the fight in progress. 

The car starting up drew the attention of the New Gods. Their aim changed instantly: to get away from the battle and pursue the fragment. The blonde woman reacted to Loki's sudden reappearance directly in front of her, sweeping out viciously with a club. Loki dodged then hit a series of blows that should have felled a mortal easily. He was breathing heavily when she finally stayed down.

Loki turned, searching for a point from which he could send out a sleep spell without catching the SHIELD agents. Instead, he was in the perfect spot to see May, who was battling Nystrom, stagger from a blow only to be hit with the rod across the bare skin of her neck. He did not wait to see her writhe in pain but let the spell go, washing the New Gods into sleep. He had not expected May nor Nystrom to sleep, but he had not expected May to get back up either. But she did, teeth bared and eyes burning, behind her adversary who had turned raising his arms in victory. A single blow to his back sent him slamming into the door of the church, cracking the thick wood and sending Randolph who had been sheltering there scurrying away. He looked at Loki in disbelief, and this time both were sharing the same reaction. It was impossible that May should be standing, but there she was, the staff fragment now held in one gloved hand. 

"Wow," said Coulson over Loki's shoulder. Randolph walked over to them, eyes wide, then turned to May. 

"Didn't you see anything?" he asked her. "Don't you feel it? The rage in your chest that makes you feel as if your heart's about to explode?" 

May gave him a calm level look that said as clear as words that he was a fool. "Yes, I saw. I felt it." Her eyes looked over Loki's shoulder at Coulson, and once again Loki witnessed a silent communication that he could not read. 

"I see," said Coulson, very softly. Behind them, Loki could hear Morse contacting Fitz, calling the car back to collect them. 

"Then how?" demanded Randolph. 

May was still looking at Coulson, her eyes dark. "Because I see it every day." 

* * *

They were in Ireland for the dawn, the two fragments of the staff tucked away safely somewhere inside the airliner. The New Gods had been left for the Spanish police, to be held for extradition to Oslo. They drove west from the small Ireland West Airport for an hour until they reached the coast. A church stood head and shoulders above a cluster of buildings, the wash of the sea against the cliffs a constant background music. As Loki walked towards the building with the others the air was sweet and untainted, as it had been a thousand years ago. 

"There were more trees then," Randolph was at his shoulder. "This place was my first love. There was a monastery, and the monks gave me a nice, warm place to sleep, some soup, and some mulled wine. They saved me." 

Simmons was on Loki's other side, calling up schematics on the tablet. "The church is modern...well modern-ish. Nineteenth century. But it's built on an ancient foundation." 

Inside the church, Randolph stopped, turned and smiled. "They remember. Even if they got the nose wrong." 

Fitz peered up at the painting. "Is that you?" 

"Yeah. They venerated me a bit as a saint." Fitz and Simmons exchanged glances. 

Simmons cleared her throat. "Is this the place?" 

"It should be." Randolph knelt, manipulated the floor and stood, the final piece of staff in his gloved hands. 

* * *

Coulson and Loki had reached agreement in private. The staff would return to Asgard. The berserker would remain on Midgard. "He's a lot more use to us than to you," Coulson pointed out. Loki had his doubts. But if Coulson had a sneaking sympathy for Randolph, he hid it well, and it was certain Asgard had little use for the man. Loki had seized the opportunity before they left Ireland to call on Heimdall to take the staff away. The only sign it had ever been on Midgard were the mystical symbols left on the tarmac by the Bifrost. 

Randolph insisted that he could make his own way home once on the European mainland. He asked to speak to Loki before he left. "Thank you," he said. "Enjoy your time here. And prepare to be surprised. I always think I understand humans, and they always prove me wrong." 

Coulson left him in Charleroi airport, with a budget reservation to fly to Seville and strict instructions to arrive there. 

"Ten dollars says he's in the wind." Coulson's plane was now on route to the United States, Morse had handed over pilot duties to May and was now taking bets about Randolph's final destination. 

"Fifty that he's back in his office next week." Coulson handed over the note with a smile and walked away. 

"Taking him there is cheating!" Morse told his retreating back. 

Coulson turned, waved and kept going. 

"Can I take my bet back?" asked Fitz. He, Simmons and Loki were in the seating area. Morse had, somehow, acquired a bag of cans while in Ireland. Fitz was lifting the cans out of the bag, followed by a bottle labeled "Jameson Whiskey" that he handled between thumb and forefinger with a look of disgust. 

"Don't be a whisky snob," Simmons told him, standing up. "Make yourself useful and get the glasses." 

Fitzsimmons gone, Morse looked across at Loki. She was not the Widow, but all the same, her gaze made Loki wary. 

"Looking forward to going home?" and there it was, the difficult question. Being among Coulson's team had been like walking on a knife-edge, but at the same time there had been something pleasant in it. That rogue Randolph had been right - these people had surprised him. He had fallen into the assumption that only the people of the Tower were exceptional. It seemed there were others. 

There was also, of course, the advantage that with Coulson's team there was no book of rules hanging over him, with consequences for his breaking them. Coulson would not be drawn on what was waiting in New York. 

Morse grinned and Loki realized he had forgotten to answer. "Not so much, huh? Don't be down, kid. If you need a place, just call." Loki looked hard at her but she appeared to be serious. "Don't act surprised. It's not everyone who can play nice with the science twins." 

"Why are we drinking this again?" Simmons asked, as she and Fitz returned with a selection of glassware. 

"It's illegal to visit Ireland and not have a Guinness," Morse said firmly. Glasses were filled, large ones with a muddy beer that settled into a deep brown liquid with a white head, and small ones with golden whiskey. The beer was palatable enough with a bitter edge, the whiskey much stronger reminding Loki of the distilled drinks of Vanaheim. Simmons took one sip of Guinness and refused to drink more, sticking to the whiskey. Fitz, on the other hand, drank the Guinness while refusing the whiskey with a shudder. 

"You're an utter ham," Simmons told him. "This is nice," and she took another sip. 

"You take that back,' Fitz told her, "I am completely serious," and he started a lecture on the difference between whiskey and whisky until Simmons threatened to hit him with the bottle. 

The conversation turned, with Fitzsimmons talking and Morse throwing in a sentence or two, and Loki remaining silent, until he was asked, inevitably, about how he had got Fitzsimmons to the car in Seville. They probed. Loki parried, until... 

"Magic," Loki said. 

"Tosh," Fitz said. "No such thing," Simmons said. 

"You tell me, then," said Loki, cautious and amused all at once at their unwarranted certainty. 

The two glanced at each other. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic," they said, in near unison. 

"Enough shop," Morse said, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't 'classified' mean anything to you two?" 

All too soon Simmons left, laughing. "No. No, Bobbi. If I have any more, I'll be sick." 

"Edinburgh," said Fitz and the wordless communication flashed between them, a joke told in just one word. A laugh zipped from one to the other like a bolt of electricity, and then she was gone. 

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. 

"You should say something," Morse said. "Shouldn't he?" appealing across the table to Loki. Jolted out of his speculations about Agent May and the staff, Loki looked back, allowing the confusion he felt show on his face. 

"Don't torture the bairn," said Fitz. His accent had become more pronounced as the night had gone on. "You're torturing me, if you recall." He leaned back in his chair, smiling at Morse, eyes unfocused. She shook her head at him. 

"If you don't say anything, you'll never know what might have been." 

"Aye," said Fitz. "How's Hunter these days?" he added. 

Morse pulled a face at him. "One good thing out of that disaster. I don't wonder about Hunter." 

"I don't wonder about Jemma," said Fitz. "She's my other half. She's my best friend. I don't want to spoil that." 

"It might be better," Morse said, 

"And it might be worse," Fitz said. "So let it lie."

Morse had let it lie. Not too long after, they had all called it a night and gone their separate ways. Loki sat in his borrowed cabin. His mind hummed with questions and surmises but only one conclusion. He agreed with Morse. What Fitz said was reasonable and logical, but Loki wanted what Loki wanted and no half measures. He wanted Darcy, no matter how he told himself otherwise. He couldn't have her and if that was how it was, he would not see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when I'm flying, falling, tumbling in turmoil...losing love is like a window in your heart.
> 
> Ever hear of Blaise Pascal apologizing for writing a long letter, saying he didn't have time to make it shorter? Well, I made this chapter shorter. Don't know why I tend to over-write this, but there it is. On the plus side, I know exactly what happened in all the conversations that don't appear here!
> 
> Differences in this timeline are accumulating. No killing of Coulson means a different team with a different mission...and no Skye. 
> 
> There is definitely a parallel universe where the red-haired youth Coulson's crew pick up and adopt and train turns out to be Loki. 
> 
> Dialogue from The Well available on [Forever Dreaming.](http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=140&t=9346)


End file.
